Cannonball Run 2003
by BKelly95
Summary: rewrite In 2003, a budding writer offered his view on a modernized version of "The Cannonball Run". Five years later, he thought he could do it better. This is that rework.
1. Meet The Teams

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter One: Meet the Teams

AN:Greetings, readers. As you can see, I have decided to rewrite Cannonball Run 2003. The reason for this is because I think that in the last five years, I have grown as a writer and could probably do this story better. So, I gave it a try. The original will remain posted until I finish this rewrite.  
You'll recall that starting with Cannonball Run 2005, I have been posting a cast list to show who'd I have playing the roles. With that said, here's the cast list for this one:

J.J. McClure-Jerry O'Connell  
Victor Prinsi/Captain Chaos-Horatio Sanz  
Pamela Glover-Tara Reid  
Dr. Nicholas Van Velsing-Randy Quaid  
Jamie Blake-Colin Quinn  
Morris Fenderbaum-Arsenio Hall  
Jill Boyd-Tinsley Grimes  
Marcie Thatcher-Jordana Spiro  
Jackie Lewis-Dustin Diamond  
Michael North-Darius McCrary  
Seymour Drake/"The Drake"-Cole Hauser  
Ron Lucas-Brian Baker  
Susan Cope-Stephanie March  
Terry Fletcher-Andrew Heckler  
Mel Sharp-Anthony Clark  
Mad Dog-Ice-T  
Batman-Beck  
Danny Mitchell-Martin Henderson  
Melanie Burke-Melanie Lynskey  
Chuck Prescott-Will Arnett  
Betty Prescott-Amy Poehler  
Arthur J. Foyt-John Lithgow  
Steve Carter-Mike Epps  
Pete Rivers-Danny Strong

The characters and the Cannonball concept were created by Brock Yates, except for the Drake and Team M.I.T who were based on characters in the original film. Danny, Melanie, and the Prescotts are completely original.

With that said, here we go.

* * *

A trio of street racers sat at a cafe in Redondo Beach, California while eating lunch. During this, they looked across the street at the Portofino Inn.

"So, you and Jill are getting ready to go?" asked Steve Carter, an African-American man.

"Just about." said Marcie Thatcher as she shook the excess cheese off of the nacho she was about to eat. She was a redhead.

"I can't believe you two are taking part in a three thousand mile street race." said Pete Rivers, a shorter man with dark hair.

"Is that from that guy from Kentucky last year?" asked Steve. "The guy who really put Ted in his place?"

"That's the one." said Marcie.

"What's this race called again?" asked Pete he picked up a french fry.

"It's called the Cannonball Run." said Marcie.

"Brought it back, huh?" said Steve. "Where are you starting from?"

"Connecticut." said Marcie.

"Great, dust some insurance salesmen for us." joked Pete.

"Think the Civic's up to it?" asked Steve.

"Actually, we picked up a different car." said Marcie as she picked another nacho. "It's a '94 Toyota MR2. We did a little mod work on it here. We'll do some more in Connecticut."

"Hope they have a Speed Zone there." said Pete.

"I checked the store locations." said Marcie as took one last sip of her soda. "They do. Luckily, both of our standing accounts should cover any expenses."

Marcie picked up her last nacho as a red Toyota MR2 pulled up to the curb and the horn sounded.

"Oh, that's Jill." said Marcie as she got up. "See you guys in a month." She picked up her purse, garment bag, and toolbox, kissed Steve on the head, and ran to the Toyota.

"Man, that's wild." said Steve as Marcie threw her things into the car and got in.

Within an hour, the car was out of the city and cruising through the Mojave Desert. Marcie told Jill about her conversation with Pete and Steve and the two laughed.

"I still can't believe we're doing this." said Jill Boyd, a blonde woman.

"This is going to take everything you've got." said Marcie. "Every lesson I've taught you, every technique you've picked up, every bit of experience you've earned."

"Think Terry's gonna be surprised?" asked Jill.

"Probably not." said Marcie. "He gave you the invite for a reason."

"And we know the reason." said Jill. "To take part in a little civil disobedience."

"Hey, speaking of civil disobedience," said Marcie as she took a can of black spray paint out of her purse "pull over at the next speed limit sign."

Jill continued to drive until she crested a hill, spotted a speed limit sign, and pulled to the side of the road. When she stopped, Marcie climbed out of the car and shook the spray paint can. She then walked over and spray painted a large 'X' on the sign. A Mustang police car then crested the hill and Marcie waved to it. She ran back to the MR2. As soon as she was in, Jill took off.

"Nice one." said Jill.

Eventually, they reached an off-ramp and Jill turned onto it. The police car crossed the median and oncoming lane and drove down the on-ramp on the other side. Just as he had gambled, Jill took a left at the bottom of the ramp, but he still couldn't intercept her in time.

"Okay, this has gone on long enough." said Marcie. "You can try to lose him now."

The police officer tried to catch up with Jill, but lost sight of her around a turn. He continued to increase his speed as he raced along a straightaway. If he'd slowed down, he might have spotted the MR2 hiding in the tall grass. After the police car raced by, Jill pulled out of her hiding place and took off after her pursuer.

After Jill pulled behind the police car, Marcie turned on the police scanner and the girls listened in to the police conversation.

"This is unit seven. We're still in pursuit of the red MR2."

"Unit seven, this is dispatch. You've been in pursuit for ten minutes. How can you lose a bright red car in the middle of the desert?"

"We're going to stay in pursuit until we catch them."

"It didn't take us this long to catch Dillinger."

"Waste him?" asked Jill. Marcie simply flashed a thumbs-up.

Jill blew past the police car and raced off. The police officer tried to catch her again, but Jill had lost him quickly. He lost sight of her again over a hill and kept searching for her car. Once again, she hid at the side of the road behind a rock formation. This time, she and Marcie had time to get out of the car and watch him race by.

"You know, Marcie, we've got this routine down." said Jill.

"Yeah, I think we're ready for the Cannonball." said Marcie.

"How far to the state line?" asked Jill.

"A hundred and fifty miles." said Marcie.

"An hour flat." laughed Jill.

"So what are we waiting for?" asked Marcie.

"Let's go!" said the two in unison.

They jumped back in the car and took off. On their way to the state line, they passed their pursuer again. This time, he just ignored them.

* * *

The next morning in upstate New York, a dark-haired man looked at a newspaper article while sitting in the office of his performance shop. The headline read "Local Woman Finds Success In California". Under that, it read "Business Venture Comes On Heels of Breakup". He let out a sigh of disgust.

A somewhat overweight man arrived at the shop and climbed out of his Stratus coupe. "Good morning, guys." he said to the mechanics and grabbed a cup of coffee. "J.J?" he asked. "J.J?" Still no answer. "J.J?"

"Victor!" yelled the man in the office.

Victor jumped in shock and spilled his coffee as his boss, J.J. McClure stepped out of the office.

"J.J!" greeted Victor.

"You're two hours late." informed J.J.

"Oh, well, I, uh..." stammered Victor.

"Well, where the hell have you been?" asked J.J.

"One of my hamsters had an anxiety attack." explained Victor. "He had a piece of tail, and Henrietta wasn't even bothering him. Then, he ate his treadmill."

"They have vets for that." informed J.J.

"Hamsters are a big responsibility." said Victor.

"Let me paint a little picture for you." said J.J. "Imagine your hamsters as a little army. Imagine them just running, running their little legs off on a giant treadmill, making that engine just purr right along."

Victor came back to reality with a smile on his face. "Oh, J.J, what a wonderful way to put it." he exclaimed.

"Good, now come on." said J.J. as he walked to his car, a black '98 Camaro. "We have to see if the Camaro is running well enough for the Cannonball."

Victor followed him and paused as he opened the Camaro's passenger side door. "Wouldn't it be great if we won the Cannonball?" he asked. "That would be a real team effort. Just you, me, the hamsters, and...HIM."

Upon hearing the last part, J.J. sprung up and hit his head on the car's roof.

"Yeah." said Victor as he climbed into the Camaro.

J.J. sat in the driver's seat rubbing his head and staring Victor down. "Don't start with him." he warned.

"Well, I..." started Victor.

"Dammit! I don't want to talk about him!" yelled J.J.

* * *

Somewhere in New Jersey, an African-American man sat on a bench near park. Just then, a red Porsche Boxster S pulled up next to him. He got up and got into the passenger seat. A fortyish man with sandy blonde hair was driving.

"So, what's the deal, Blake?" asked the passenger.

"I'm out." said Blake. "Looks like I've got the time to do the Cannonball."

"What about your driving?" asked the passenger.

"I just took it to the track." said Blake. "I managed to break a few records there. Fenderbaum, are you sure about this wager?"

"It's a cinch." said Fenderbaum. "It's going to be the easiest money we ever made."

"Hey, I don't know what you've got planned." said Blake. "I just know that no plan is one hundred percent perfect. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, we could be in trouble."

"We've got the car." said Fenderbaum.

"Right." said Blake.

"We've got your racing skills." said Fenderbaum.

"Right." said Blake.

"And we've got the secret weapon." said Fenderbaum.

Blake hesitated. "That's the part that worries me." he said.

* * *

Back in New York, J.J. and Victor cruised along in the Camaro.

"Seems to be running pretty well." said Victor.

"Yeah, engine's going well." said J.J. "Think she's good for another three thousand miles."

"Hey, what's bothering you?" asked Victor.

"There was a news article on Gina in the Freeman." said J.J. "Apparently, she joined some other company just after last year's Cannonball. She just got promoted to regional manager."

"Oh." said Victor.

"I'm trying not to think about it, but it just reminds me of my latest failure." said J.J.

"It wasn't your failure." said Victor. "She was asking you to choose between me and her."

"That's true." said J.J.

"Hey, who was there when your father died?" asked Victor. "Who was there when you started your garage? Who was there when you won your first race?"

Just then, they heard something on the radio. "We have a report of a traffic accident along route two-thirteen in the town of Stone Ridge."

"Hey, we're heading right for it." said Victor.

"No problem." said J.J. as he signaled to make a turn. Little did he realize, in his effort to avoid the accident, he steered right towards it.

"But still, she probably would have stopped you from going on this." said Victor. "I mean we just might win this one. I know you can do it. You're a winner and she isn't."

A little ways down the road, oncoming traffic became non-existant and the other cars slowed to a crawl, so J.J. swerved to pass them.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." said J.J. "Her loss. Our win."

"That's the spirit." said Victor.

"I know it is." said J.J. as he spotted a group of young women standing by the side of the road. "Hi, ladies!" he called as he waved.

"J.J! Look out!" screamed Victor as he pointed to the cars from the accident. A hatchback had been moved to the side of the road, but a sedan was sitting right in their path.

J.J. swerved to avoid the sedan, but swerved back to avoid hitting a police officer. Finally, he hit the sedan and flipped the Camaro onto its roof. The car rolled over onto its wheels before rolling back onto its roof. When it came to a rest, the rescue personel ran to the new wreck and a police officer ripped open the passenger side door. He found Victor holding his hand in pain and J.J. wincing as he held his head.

"Hi, officer!" chirped Victor. "Been a cop long?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Blake and Fenderbaum entered a betting parlor in New Jersey.

"Come with me." said Fenderbaum.

An oddsmaker was on the phone. He looked up to see Fenderbaum in front of him. "I'll call you back." he said.

"Ricky!" yelled Fenderbaum.

"Fenderbaum, give me a break!" yelled Ricky. "Do me a favor. You're drawing flies. Get outta here!"

Fenderbaum laughed off the request. "So, how do you figure the odds on this Cannonball cockamamie?" he asked. "The way I see it, all you need to do is drive fast, stay out of trouble, and have a good car."

"It takes years of hard work and planning, two things you wouldn't understand." remarked Ricky.

"So, do you want to talk? Or do you want to bet?" asked Fenderbaum.

"With you, neither." said Ricky.

Fenderbaum laughed. "No, seriously." he replied. "Do you want to talk? Or do you want to bet?"

"That's three thousand miles averaging over a hundred miles per hour." observed the Ricky. "There's only a handful of drivers who can manage that. Who have you got?"

"Well, meet my partner." said Fenderbaum as he put his hand on Blake's shoulder and turned him to Ricky.

"Jamie Blake." said Ricky. "You used to race that Formula One...when Members Only jackets were in stock." Blake responded with a scowl.

"And that's not all, Ricky." said Fanderbaum. "We have a secret weapon: God is our co-pilot."

"You'll need him!" remarked Ricky.

"So, are we going to bet?" asked Fenderbaum.

"If it makes you go away." said Ricky. "What's the wager?"

"Thirty thousand on the Porsche Boxster." said Fenderbaum.

"Deal." said Ricky. He then walked away.

Fenderbaum walked away himself with a very confused Blake.

"God is our co-pilot?" asked Blake.

Fenderbaum hummed an affirmative.

"Remember our car? Two seats?" asked Blake.

"Two seats?" asked Fenderbaum.

Blake slapped Fenderbaum lightly and asked "Where's he gonna sit?" He slapped him again and asked "Where?"

* * *

An ambulance took J.J. and Victor into Kingston.

"Man, you guys are lucky." said the paramedic. "You guys really tore the hell out of that car."

"Thanks, doc." said J.J. as he held a bandage against his forehead. He then turned his attention to Victor. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, it only hurts when I point." said Victor of his splinted and bandaged finger. "You know, maybe we wouldn't have crashed if you hadn't been paying so much attention to those girls."

"Nobody's perfect." said J.J.

"Yeah, nobody's perfect..." said Victor who then pointed up and added "...but HIM."

"Guess the Camaro's out of the equation." said J.J.

"Yeah, I think we're going to need a new ride." said Victor. "But the real question is can we tune one up in time?"

"Maybe we should consider a different strategy." said J.J. "We can tune up, trick out, and completely modify just about any car we can get our hands on. The real problem is the police. They're going to try to stop anything that comes their way that's not following the rules."

"So, what are you suggesting?" asked Victor.

"I'm thinking we should take a vehicle and modify it into something that the police would most likely ignore." said J.J.

"Ah, we should race with something that's supposed to speed." said Victor.

"Right." said J.J. "But the big question is what will we make?"

The two of them thought for a few seconds.

"I know, an ice cream truck." said Victor.

J.J. looked at him confused.

"You know, they gotta get there before it melts." said Victor.

J.J. smiled and turned back to the paramedic. "Hey, doc, how far is it to the hospital?"

"About ten miles." said the paramedic.

"How long before we get there?" asked J.J.

"About four or five minutes." said the paramedic. "You can smoke through traffic like shot through a gun in this baby."

J.J. and Victor were confused at first, then looked to the front of the ambulance. They saw the driver racing through the streets of Kingston and the other cars were quickly swerving out of the way.

J.J. and Victor looked at each other and shared a sly laugh. Victor tapped his head with his broken finger and then waved it at J.J. J.J. grabbed Victor's finger and shook it, causing Victor to scream in pain.

* * *

Two weeks later in Boston, a black '99 Subaru Impreza RS2.5 sat in the middle of a television talk show set. Two students, one smallish with short facial hair and the other a more muscular African-American, sat with a young blonde woman and an older man.

"I'm George Weathers and welcome to Tech Talk." introduced the man. "We're broadcasting live from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and today, our guests are Jackie Lewis and Michael North. They are students here at M.I.T. who studied the applications of computers in automobiles and the result...is right in front of us." He held out his hand towards the Impreza. "So, tell me. How have you modified this car?"

"Well, for starters," said Jackie, the smallish one "this car is fully computerized."

"By making subtle adjustments to the ECU," continued Michael, the muscular one "we have managed to improve the car's acceleration, top speed, and fuel economy. I'll get back to you on the specifics."

"We have also installed quite a few gadgets." said Jackie. "In fact, I could probably show them to you." He stood up and led the woman to the car.

"I can tell you about these gadgets." said Michael. "They include a parabolic mic, satellite navigation that I programmed myself, and don't get me started on the JATO bottles in the...trunk."

Jackie pulled open the door and let the woman sit inside.

"Sweden, huh?" he asked. "So, what brings you to America, Marie?"

"I'm basicly trying to ply my trade in computers here." she said. "I'm trying to get out of my brother's shadow. He's a big time rally driver back in Europe."

"So, what do you think of the car?" asked Jackie.

"It's not bad really." said Marie. "This is a little nicer than my Saab back home. What does this do?"

She reached for a button marked "Pop", but Jackie grabbed her wrist. "No!" he said. "I think I should mention this car is full of surprises."

"So, what are you planning to do with this car?" asked Marie.

"There's this major car race in a couple of weeks." said Jackie. "With these gadgets, I'm sure we can win."

"I see." said Marie. "What does this do?" she asked as she flipped another switch.

Suddenly, the JATO bottles started to warm up.

"Is that supposed to be happening?" asked George.

"No." said Michael as he got out of his seat.

"How do I shut this down?" asked Marie franticly.

"Michael, you have to help her!" yelled Jackie.

"Get in there and shut it down!" yelled Michael.

"I'm not going near it!" yelled Jackie.

"Does anybody have the manual for this thing?" asked Marie as she tried to figure out the control panel.

"Come on, man!" yelled Michael. "Get in there!"

"Make me!" yelled Jackie.

Marie pushed a button she hoped would shut down the JATO bottles. Unfortunately, she activated them instead. All she managed to say before the Subaru rocketed out of the studio was a Swedish curse. Jackie and Michael watched in shock.

* * *

The following week in Illinois, a businessman was playing a round of golf and joking with his caddy.

"So, the police showed up and I explained that my Porsche had been stolen." said the businessman as he prepared to make his next shot. He shouted "Fore!" and swung his club, driving the ball over an access road and onto the green, then continued his joke. "After that, they brought me outside and showed me my Porsche. Turns out I left it in the driveway instead of garaging it and forgot."

The caddy laughed and started to cross the access road, but the businessman stopped him and said, "Whoa, don't go."

"What's wrong?" asked the caddy.

The businessman pointed at a white BMW 760i racing up the access road. Rush's "Tom Sawyer" could be heard over the radio. The Bavarian luxury car sped by the two and continued to the clubhouse. The pair walked across the road to the green.

"What was that?" asked the caddy.

"Didn't you hear?" asked the businessman. "The Drake thinks he's a race driver."

"Is he any good?" asked the caddy as the businessman took a putter from his bag.

"He's hit three golf carts so far." said the businessman.

"Hmmmf, I wouldn't let him drive the ball collector." said the caddy as the businessman took his putt.

Further up the hill, the Drake's Bimmer raced into the parking lot and slid into a parking space. A man in a business suit with dark curly hair climbed out of the driver's seat rather calmly. A blonde woman in a business suit got out of the passenger seat a little more shakily.

The driver walked over to a tough guy in a suit and said "Ron, starting next week, you and Susan ride in the car with me."

"Yes, sir." said Ron. He then turned to Susan and asked "Is he any better?"

"Double your insurance." warned Susan.

The driver walked over to a table where an older woman sat. "Hello, mother." he said. "I trust you slept well."

"A nightmare. A living nightmare." replied his mother. "You are killing me, Seymour. Killing me a slow death with this racing thing. Here's my son, Seymour Drake Jr, son of Seymour Drake, respected businessman. And what is he doing? He's racing in the streets like he's Mario Andretti or someone. For this, you've lost three cars you put up as wagers. For this, you've spent twelve nights in jail. For this, I'm going broke paying your legal fees. And now, this..." She picked up a napkin to reveal a small handgun. "The chambermaid found this under your pillow this morning. What is the meaning of this?"

"The answer is a quick death." said the Drake as picked up the gun and cocked it. "I warned you not to interfere in my affairs." he added as he pointed the gun at her.

She pushed it to the side and said "Oh, Seymour! Put that away! It's liable to go off!"

The Drake returned the gun to its position and said "You have to understand that I am part of a dangerous community and even the closest family relationships are not worth much."

"Oh, pish posh!" exclaimed Mrs. Drake as she disregarded her son's words.

He steadied his aim and started to squeeze the trigger.

"Seymour, no!" she exclaimed.

"It's like I said." said the Drake.

With that, he pulled the trigger. But instead of a bullet, a flag with the word "BANG" on it shot out instead. The Drake just laughed.

"Oh, Seymour. Where did I go wrong?" cried Mrs. Drake.

"You know something, mom?" laughed the Drake. "Lighten up!"

* * *

A few days later in Kentucky, a dark-haired man woke up next to his wife.

"Good morning, honey." he said.

"You're still here, Mel?" she asked. "Weren't you supposed to leave with Terry? You are the defending champions."

"He's not here yet." said Mel. "Maybe we can do a little something until he is."

"Go ahead. I can wait." said the other man in the room. He was taller and thinner with brown hair.

Mel and his wife screamed in shock.

"Jesus, Terry!" yelled Mel. "Haven't you heard of front doors?"

"Window was wide open." said Terry. "Shouldn't do that, it's mosquito season."

"Can you give me a little time with the missus?" asked Mel.

"Oh, sure." said Terry as he started for the window.

Twenty minutes later, Mel was finished with his business and dressed. He walked out the front door and kissed away his goodbyes to his wife.

"Bye, honey." she said. "Have fun."

"Don't worry, I'll be home within a week." said Mel. One last kiss and he went to Terry, who was leaning against a red '69 Chevrolet Chevelle SS396.

"What have you been doing with this?" asked Mel.

"Singlehandedly keeping Edelbrock in business." said Terry. "Come on, I'm only stopping for gas."

Terry jumped into the driver's seat and started the car as Mel slid into the passenger seat. Terry floored the accelerator and cut a small ditch into the front lawn as he peeled out.

* * *

The next day, a man with messy blonde hair under a cowboy hat walked down the streets of Brooklyn towards a garage, the boom box in his hand blasting Beck's "Devil's Haircut".

Soon, the man reached the garage. Several of the local youths were employed there, mostly to teach them about engines and keep them out of trouble. These youths were now discussing the white GMC Sierra Denali they were leaning on. The man turned off his boom box and asked "Mad Dog here?"

The kids just laughed.

"Come on, guys. Where's Mad Dog?" asked the man, completely oblivious to the African-American man rappelling on a winch behind him.

"Right here, Batman." said the man. Batman was surprised, but not shocked.

"What are you doing?" asked Batman as Mad Dog unhooked himself from the winch.

"Just fixing a light bulb." replied Mad Dog as he walked over to a bench and picked up a jacket and baseball cap.

"With a winch?" asked Batman as he set his boom box down on the bench.

"Hey, any idiot can use a ladder." said Mad Dog. "So what, we gonna do this?"

"Hell, yeah." replied Batman. "And you?"

"You bet." said Mad Dog. He then turned to the youths and told them "Okay, we big kids got this little party to go to. For the next week, you guys are on vacation, so have fun."

The youths all wished Mad Dog and Batman luck and waved their goodbyes.

"Oh, one more thing." said Mad Dog. "Get off my truck." With that, the kids got off of the Sierra.

AN:In case you're wondering, George was Mr. Weathers from CR2006 and Marie was Marie Lindstrom from CR2007. If you do not remember the cast lists from those fics, I cast John O'Hurley as George and Nina Persson (lead singer of the Cardigans) as Marie.  
Please R&R.


	2. The Guests Are Here, Let the Party Begin

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter Two:The Guests are Here, Let the Party Begin

AN:If you remember the original version of this story, you'll probably notice that I changed things up a bit here.

A few days before the race, the Cannonballers made their way to Connecticut.

J.J. and Victor drove in a Ford E-250 made up as an ambulance. The company was listed as "Transcon Medivac". The two were dressed as paramedics.

"The equipment is set up." said Victor as he climbed into the front passenger seat. "I think it looks convincing enough."

"Good." said J.J. "Let's hope this doctor I called is up for the journey."

"How do you know him?" asked Victor.

"He knew my dad." said J.J. solemnly. "He was the one we called in when Dad was on his deathbed."

"Oh, I didn't know that." said Victor.

"I'd like to think this is my way of bringing Dad on the journey he never got to take." said J.J.

"I'd like to meet this guy." said Victor.

Their ambulance continued down the road. Elsewhere, Blake's Porsche, Jackie's Subaru, the Drake's BMW, Mad Dog's GMC, and Terry's Chevelle also drove to the starting line.

Terry's Chevelle raced past a speedtrap and the police cruiser gave chase.

Terry looked in his rearview at his pursuer. "Uh, what's the speed limit through here?" he asked. "I thought it was fifty-five."

"I think it dropped to forty back there." said Mel.

"Ah crap." said Terry.

"You gonna pull over?" asked Mel.

"With out of state license plates and an illegal road race going on in the area?" asked Terry.

"Good point. Floor it." said Mel.

* * *

Blake and Fenderbaum pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

"I thought I told you I wasn't so sure about this." groaned Blake.

"It's just an outfit." said Fenderbaum. "It's part of our strategy. Relax."

Blake parked and got out of the car. He was dressed as a Catholic priest. "I'm going to Hell for this. I know it." he moaned.

Blake walked up to the desk set up by the race organizers and said "Good afternoon, my son." to the official behind the desk. "I wish to enter your little race."

"Sure, father." said the official. "Just sign here." he added as he gave Blake an entry form. Blake did his duty and signed it.

"Smile!" said a woman as she pointed a camera at her son. Blake was in the background of her shot.

"I know it is quite a news story for a man of the cloth to take part in a race like this," said Blake "but could you please keep the media coverage to a minimum?"

* * *

Just down the road, Batman was rapping as Mad Dog drove. "And I slap on my jet pack/ and give it a whack/ behind the wheel/ of a big Cadillac."

"Man, that's nice." said Mad Dog. "You should record that."

"Yeah, I could make a blooper tape." joked Batman.

"You know, I was wondering." said Mad Dog. "Where'd you get a name like Batman?"

"I blame my parents." said Batman. "Family name is Bruce and they named me Wayne. Wayne Bruce. Bruce Wayne backwards."

Mad Dog laughed.

"So, I chose Batman 'cause it was less embarrassing."

Mad Dog laughed some more.

"So, where did you get a name like Mad Dog?" asked Batman.

"How well do you know me?" asked Mad Dog.

The two laughed as sirens cut the silence. Mad Dog prepared to pull over before Terry's Chevelle raced by him with the Connecticut State Trooper right behind him.

"They'll never catch him." announced Mad Dog.

* * *

"He's still on our ass!" yelled Mel. "I don't think he's above it neither."

"Just relax, alright." said Terry. "We're almost at the hotel."

"Hey, and I remember." said Mel. "There's a spot right out back where we can hide and lose this guy easily."

"Okay, how do I find it?" asked Terry.

"Okay, turn left into the hotel." said Mel. "Then go until...ah, hell. Just turn left."

Terry hung a left and entered the parking lot. Unfortunately, his hood wasn't secured and flipped open, covering the windshield. Terry ended up navigating blindly.

"I can't see shit! Can you?!" yelled Mel.

"No problem! No problem!" said Terry as he steered onto what he thought was an access road. He didn't realize it was actually a path leading to a swimming pool.

That is, until he drove into the pool.

As the Chevelle sank to the bottom, the police car drove around the parking lot and searched in vain for the muscle car. Terry and Mel swam to the surface and laughed.

"That was..." said Mel before lapsing back into laughter. "That was perfect. That was even better than the place I had picked out."

"Yeah." laughed Terry. "But the only problem now is...we have to go and retune it."

* * *

Not far away, a meeting of a very different kind was taking place. This meeting was held by an environmentalist group. Behind the announcer's podium, a picture window separated the meeting from Jill and Marcie fine-tuning their Toyota.

While the key note speaker was discussing recycling efforts in the area, a man turned to the young woman next to him.

"You know, this is a terrific turnout for this meeting." he told her. "There must be ecologists from all over New England here."

"I know." said the woman. "I come from Vermont myself. My name's Pamela by the way."

"Mr. Foyt." he replied. "So, what brings you here?"

"I'm mostly into trees." said Pamela. "That's what brings me to these meetings."

"Really?" asked Mr. Foyt.

"Oh, yes." said Pamela. "I like sitting under them on a summer's day. You can feel the cool breeze and just relax in the shade."

The speaker then said "I would like to introduce our guest speaker for this day, Mr. Arthur J. Foyt."

Mr. Foyt stood up as the crowd applauded and made his way to the podium. Outside, Jill and Marcie continued their work.

"You know, the only problem with doing it yourself" said Marcie "is doing it yourself."

"Are we almost done?" asked Jill.

"Just about." said Marcie. "We made a great start before we left L.A. That's how we took on that CHiPpie. Now, we can take on the world."

"Great, you ready to tune the ECU?" asked Jill.

"All set." said Marcie. She climbed into the passenger seat and opened her laptop. She connected it to the ECU and started to work. "That's weird." she said. "I seem to be getting some kind of interferance."

Inside, Mr. Foyt made his speech. "We in Washington have received your messages." he said as his microphone whined with feedback. "We do not agree with your requests to ban the use of colored toilet paper due to irritation of the rectum." Once again, a shrill blast of feedback greeted him and amplified the word "rectum".

"What is wrong with this thing?" asked Marcie as she still tried to calibrate the ECU.

"Keep trying." said Jill. "Maybe it's a glitch or something."

In the conference room, the environmentalist group held their ears as feedback filled the room.

"And now, I'd like to turn the subject to an old and familiar enemy of ours: the automobile." said Foyt as he pulled the cover off a picture of a Lamborghini. "It reminds me of a poem that I once wrote. The automobile, the automobile..."

One person ran up, reached into the podium, and fiddled around. A couple of seconds later, the feedback stopped.

"Thank you very much." said Foyt. "You may now proceed to the buffet."

"Okay, that did it." said Marcie. "The ECU is fully calibrated. The performance tuning is done. I think maybe we should add a few cosmetic touches. Ground effects, racing seats, rims, interior."

"I still think we should paint it black." said Jill.

"If we do that, we should probably add nitrous." said Marcie.

* * *

J.J. entered the parking lot next and found a spot to park. Next to his chosen spot was a silver Qvale Mangusta with a man and woman standing near it. The man was wearing a blue polo shirt with tan slacks and his brown hair was nicely styled. The woman wore a red blouse with black slacks and her black hair was also nicely styled. The car itself had Florida plates.

"Well, look who's here." said J.J.

He pulled into the spot and cut the engine. He climbed out, approached the man, and said "Hey, aren't you a little young to be from Florida?"

The man looked up at him surprised. "J.J. McClure?" he asked with a New Zealand accent.

"How are you doing, Danny?" asked J.J.

"Doing fine." said Danny as he joined J.J. in a handshake. "What's with the ambulance?"

"Some guy came down with a kidney infection." said J.J.

"How's that?" asked Danny.

"Just kidding." said J.J. "It's a disguise."

"Oh, that's pretty clever." said Danny's companion. She also had a New Zealand accent.

"Nice to see you too, Melanie." said Victor.

"So, who else is here?" asked J.J. as Mad Dog pulled into a spot in his pickup.

"I'm pretty sure everybody came back from last year." said Danny. "You should've seen when Terry Fletcher showed up. Mad Dog just got here."

J.J. looked over his shoulder. "I think I'll go say 'Hi.'" he said.

* * *

Inside, Mr. Foyt walked into the lobby with Pamela following him.

"Where are you going, Mister...uh..." asked Pamela.

"Foyt." he reminded.

"Thank you, I'm terrible with names." she said.

"I've got some time before the conference reconvenes." he said. "I thought I'd take some time to rest my voice."

"Do you think they'll get the sound system fixed by then?" asked Pamela.

"I would hope so." said Foyt as sat down on the couch. "Until then, I'll be right here." With that, he laid down on the couch.

Mad Dog and Batman walked into the lobby and walked over to the desk. Mad Dog rung the desk bell.

The desk clerk walked over and asked "May I help you?"

"You the one running this fleabag? asked Mad Dog.

"Excuse me?" asked the desk clerk.

"Where the hookers?" asked Mad Dog.

"What?" asked the desk clerk.

"Hookers, man!" yelled Mad Dog. "Where the hookers?"

J.J. and Victor walked in. "Hey, Mad Dog!" yelled J.J.

"Hey, J.J." said Mad Dog.

"So, what seems to be the problem here?" asked J.J.

"The guy won't give me my hookers." said Mad Dog.

"Who do you think you are? The president?" asked J.J.

"Well, in order to make one thing perfectly clear," said Mad Dog in his best George Bush Sr. voice while making a rectagle with his fingers "we feel terrible about it. Now, if they can't take a joke..." He finished his speech with an Italian Fist of Fury.

J.J. laughed and walked up to the desk clerk. "Two singles, please." he said. "J.J. McClure and Victor Prinsi."

"Your rooms are 212 and 213." said the desk clerk. "Here are your keys."

"Thank you." said J.J. "We'll be in the bar."

J.J. and Victor walked into the bar. "Hey, Chucky!" yelled Victor.

A tall, thin man with short, black hair turned to him. "Victor!" he said. The short, blonde woman standing next to him joined him.

"What's up, Chuck?" asked J.J. "How are you doing, Betty?"

"Okay now." said the blonde woman. "So, when did you guys manage to go to medical school?"

"I have a feeling we'll be getting that a lot this year." said J.J.

"Did you bring the Stealth this year?" asked Victor.

"No, the Mustang." said Chuck. "Stealth's alternator is cooked."

"We decided to get it fixed with our lottery winnings." said Betty. "But then we remembered. We don't have any."

"Well, you know the slogan of the New York Lotto." said Victor. "Hey, you never know."

* * *

Jackie drove towards the entrance to the hotel in the Subaru.

"You know, I'm not surprised that Marie caught the next flight back to Sweden." said Michael.

"Have you finished programming that sat nav yet?" asked Jackie.

"Just about." said Michael. "It's not as easy as it looks."

"Just keep in mind we're driving three thousand miles." said Jackie as he pulled into the parking lot. "If we get lost somewhere out there, that could be seriously bad."

"Don't think I don't know that." said Michael as another car pulled out in front of them. "There are several places where...LOOK OUT!"

Jackie swerved to avoid the collision. Unfortunately, he ended up steering for the entrance to the lobby. He crashed through the doors and plowed into the couch. Worse yet, Mr. Foyt was still resting on it and was knocked out.

Blake and Fenderbaum saw the whole thing. "What in the Hell was that?" asked Fenderbaum.

"Oh, that must've been the entry of the National Safety Counsel." said Blake.

Jackie climbed out of the car and said "Nobody worry! I'm okay!"

The desk clerk looked at Mr. Foyt and said "Oh God." He then ran for the bar.

In the bar, J.J. and Victor sat with Chuck and Betty.

"So, what's new from the office?" asked J.J.

"Got me." said Chuck. "But let me tell you how things are in the mail room. We just..."

The desk clerk ran in and yelled "I'm so glad you're here! We've just had a terrible accident!"

J.J. and Victor looked to each other and got up.

The desk clerk led them into the lobby and pointed to the unconcious Mr. Foyt. "He seems unconcious! I think he might be dead!"

"Then, maybe you should call the coroner." said Victor as he looked over the man. "J.J, he don't look too good."

"I'd like to help you, but this is our day off." said J.J.

"Well, can't you do something?" demanded the desk clerk. "This man's life is hanging by a thread!"

"Okay, I'll see what I can do." said J.J.

He walked over and looked over Mr. Foyt, picked up his leg, dropped it, then walked back to the desk clerk.

"I think he's just had his bell rung. Victor!" he said as he snapped his fingers and pointed to a seltzer bottle on a nearby cart. Victor picked up the bottle and tossed it to J.J.

"Now, you're going to have to be very scientific about this." said J.J. "If my aim's off, it could go up the nostrils, plug up the sinuses."

J.J. adjusted his aim with Victor's help and let loose a blast of seltzer into Mr. Foyt's face. The unconcious man squirmed back to conciousness. Just then, J.J. lowered the bottle and gave Foyt another blast in the crotch.

J.J. was greeted with applause from the crowd and set the bottle down on a nearby table. "Okay, he should be fine." he told the desk clerk. "Just give him a couple of enemas and call me in the morning. I'm going back to the bar. I always like a couple of drinks right after surgery."

* * *

The Drake was next to show up. He raced into the parking lot and screeched to a halt at the curb. He and Susan climbed out calmly while Ron jumped out of the back seat, ran to the rear of the car, and leaned behind it.

"I wonder why that guy parked his car in the lobby." said Susan.

"Only in America." said the Drake as he took out a check and handed it to her. "Go to the check-in desk and get twelve suites." Susan started for the entrance when the Drake stopped her. "Better yet, get the entire floor."

She walked back to the entrance and the Drake followed her. Along the way, he passed Ron who was throwing up behind the BMW. "Ah, too many cheeseburgers." said the Drake.

* * *

The following night, the Cannonballers threw a party to celebrate the race starting the night after the party. Mr. Foyt and Pamela attended without really knowing what was going on.

"I heard about what happened yesterday." said Pamela. "Are you alright?"

"No lasting effects." he told her. "Although I sure as H would like to get my hands on the Hell's Angels who were driving that car."

"There's a party going on here." said Pamela. "Maybe we should attend."

"Well, if you think..." Foyt said before noticing Jackie and Michael. "Oh no. It's them."

"Who?" asked Pamela.

"Those Hell's Angels." said Foyt.

"They could be part of a terrorist group." said Pamela.

"There's something going on here." said Foyt. "Something suspicious. I'm going to check it out." He then left Pamela at a table while he looked around for someone to look into.

He then noticed Blake and Fenderbaum sitting at their own table. He walked up behind their seat, pulled out his keys, and dropped them. He then dropped to the floor and listened in on their conversation.

"I did a little asking around." said Fenderbaum. "We've got this race all sewn up. Over there, that's Seymour Drake Jr. He's a street racer in Chicago and a noted playboy. And from what I've heard, he's got more money than common sense, brains, and driving ability combined."

"Just the way I like it." said Blake.

"See that guy?" asked Fenderbaum as he pointed out Jackie. "That's the guy who drove his car into the lobby."

"He's no problem." said Blake.

"That's Dennis 'Mad Dog' Menesini over there." said Fenderbaum as he pointed out Mad Dog. "He can be rather crazy sometimes."

"Crazy enough to get himself killed?" asked Blake.

"Yep." said Fenderbaum as he looked toward Jill and Marcie. "Then we have those two street racer girls. They came all the way from L.A. to take part in the Cannonball and they spent a lot of money on their car to get some kind of advantage. They could be trouble."

"They're girls, I can take 'em." said Blake. "What about the others?"

"None of them are up to the Cannonball." said Fenderbaum. "You know, I think I'm gonna call Ricky and add another ten thousand."

Just then, the waitress brought them their drinks. Blake scooped the stack of fruit out of his drink, said "I don't want any fruit in my drink." and dropped it behind his seat. It landed in Foyt's ear.

Mr. Foyt cleaned the fruit out of his ear and tried to help himself up. Just after he put his hand on the floor, a passerby stepped on it.

* * *

"I can't believe you still haven't found a patient for the ambulance yet." said J.J.

"I tried a local acting school." said Victor. "Most of the students there wanted some adequate compensation."

"Well, we gotta find a..." said J.J. "What kind of compensation?" he asked.

"The kind that has portraits of presidents on them." said Victor. "I had to tell them we were doing something illegal and they wanted insurance for in case they get arrested."

"Wimps." said J.J.

"I tried a few more places." said Victor. "Unfortunately, that was my best bet."

"Would've been mine too." said J.J.

"Hey, maybe one of them can be our patient." said Victor as he pointed to Jill and Marcie.

"Maybe both of them." said J.J. as he looked himself.

"Really?" asked Victor.

"Sure. I could be very patient with those patients." said J.J. "Very licka...very lackable." J.J. and Victor then got up to talk to the girls.

* * *

"Terrorists, my dimpled ass!" scoffed Mr. Foyt as he returned to Pamela. "These people make terrorists look like the Sisters of Charity. These guys are Cannonballers!"

"What is that? A bowling team?" asked Pamela.

"It's a group of people who engage in races across the country on public roads." said Foyt. "This is done without regard for public safety or the environmental impact."

"They sound dangerous." said Pamela.

"They are." said Foyt. "You know what? I'm going to do something about this. I'm going to call someone and arrange a task force to stop these guys once and for all."

He got up and left.

* * *

"Tomorrow, the paint will be dry and we can make our finishing touches." said Marcie as J.J. and Victor approached.

"Hey, look at this." said Jill.

"Hello, ladies." said J.J. "I'm J.J. McClure and this is Victor Prinsi."

"So, what seems to be the medical emergency?" asked Jill.

J.J. smirked at Jill's comment. "No, you see, we're Cannonballers." he said.

"Oh, and you're disguised as paramedics to fool the police." said Marcie. "That's brilliant."

"Thank you." said Victor.

"Now, as you may know," said J.J. "we are the favorites to win the race tomorrow and we were wondering if maybe one of you or both of you would like the honor of riding in the winning vehicle."

"Oh, that's sweet." said Jill. "But we're Cannonballers ourselves."

"They're Cannonballers?" asked Victor.

"And as for the winning vehicle, we'll see about that." said Marcie. "After all, you haven't seen this one behind the wheel of a sport compact."

"You must be those street racers from L.A. we've been hearing about." said J.J. "So, how did you find out about the race?"

"Last year, we got buzzed by Danny and the Drake on their way to the finish." said Jill. "So, we followed them there and got into a conversation with Mr. Mitchell. We then met Terry and let him tag along to a race on Mulholland Drive. After he kicked some ricer's ass, he invited us to the Cannonball."

Victor looked around the room. "Where IS Terry?" he asked.

* * *

Terry's Chevelle had been rescued from the pool and was now sitting in the parking lot. The engine had been disassembled and was now mostly reassembled.

"Can we really get this thing back in running order in time for the race?" asked Mel from the driver's seat.

"We've got about twenty-four hours." said Terry as he leaned over the engine bay. "They say you should let an engine dry out over a couple of weeks before trying to get it running, but we don't have that kind of time."

"I think the real question is 'do we have that kind of luck?'" said Mel.

"Didn't fail us last year." said Terry.

Behind the Chevelle, Mr. Foyt entered the hotel room and picked up the phone. He then dialled a number and held up the receiver to his ear. "Hello? It's Foyt. I've got a hot one for you."

* * *

J.J. walked away from the Jill and Marcie. He saw Pamela sitting alone. He decided to give her some attention.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi." she said right back.

"Don't tell me your name. Let me guess." said J.J. "Elizabeth?"

"No." said Pamela.

"Millicent?" asked J.J.

"No." said Pamela.

"Beverly?" asked J.J.

"No." said Pamela.

"How about if I just call you 'Beauty'?" asked J.J.

"Okay." said Pamela. "Have a seat."

J.J. sat with her at the table. "So, how's your evening going?" asked J.J.

"Okay so far." said Pamela. "Are you one of those Volleyballers?"

"Cannonballers." corrected J.J. "And no."

"So, what are you doing here?" asked Pamela.

"Oh, me and my partner just ride around in an ambulance looking for accidents, see if we can help." said J.J. "I really think we're put on this planet to help people, not hurt people."

"That's noble." said Pamela. "I think it would be a better world if more people helped other people."

"That is so true." said J.J.

"I'm into trees." said Pamela.

"Really?" asked J.J.

"Have you ever heard of Joyce Kilmer?" asked Pamela.

"Oh yeah, she wrote that poem about a tree." said J.J.

"Uh, he." said Pamela.

"Hmmm?" said J.J.

"He." repeated Pamela.

"He's a she?" asked J.J.

"She's a he." said Pamela.

"Well then, HE wrote that poem about a tree." said J.J.

"I like how you can sit under them on a summer's day," said Pamela "feel the cool breeze, relax in the shade..."

"J.J!" yelled Victor as he ran up to them. "J.J, we've got a problem!"

"Not now!" snapped J.J.

"It's about the doc!" said Victor.

"It'll keep!" yelled J.J.

"Oh, it's about the doc?" said Pamela as she got up and left.

"Come on, I need to tell you!" said Victor.

"I want to talk to her!" said J.J. as he motioned to the empty seat where Pamela had been sitting.

"Who?" asked Victor.

J.J. looked and saw that Pamela had left.

"Now, do you want to hear about the doc?" asked Victor.

"No!" snapped J.J.

"It'll keep." said Victor.

* * *

Mr. Foyt was in his room talking on the phone at this time. "This is the big one!" he remarked. "This is like our Three Mile Island and Exxon Valdez rolled into one. Uh huh. We're going to crack this baby wide open and then get some real money heading our way."

Outside, Terry cranked his wrench one last time. "Okay, that should do it." he said. "Turn the key. Let's see if it worked."

Mel tried to turn the key. The starting motor whined in protest.

"Hold on." said Terry. "I think I know what's wrong."

"Tomorrow, I'm going to get some license plate numbers of the participants." said Foyt. "Those numbers will be given to police forces in key locations. They will not be escaping."

Terry finished wrenching again. "Try it again." he said.

Mel turned the key again. This time, the engine roared to life.

Foyt put a hand to his other ear as the window started to rattle from the engine noise. "Uh, somebody's getting in some early work." he said. "I think he should be priority as he is driving a car from before 1973."

Mel revved the engine again. "Yeah, hear those glasspacks!" he yelled.

"A few more revs should blow the carbon out." said Terry. Mel revved the engine again.

This time, the exhaust note was just right to shatter the window. The force of the explosion sent Foyt tumbling into the coffee table, crushing it.

Foyt picked the phone back up and said "Yes, I'm alright! Let me tell you one more thing! They picked on the wrong one this time! As the old saying goes, when the going gets tough, the tough get going!"

Terry watched him make this statement and walked back to the window of the Chevelle. Mel had shut off the engine.

"I think the engine's running perfectly." said Terry.

"Alright." said Mel as he opened the door. "Let's see if there's anything left of the party to attend."

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

AN:One again, please review.


	3. Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter Three:Ladies and Gentlemen, Start Your Engines

The morning after the party...

"Would you hurry the hell up!" said Mad Dog as Batman rolled over a tire. He had a good reason for his impatience: he and three other guys were holding up the front of the truck with their hands.

* * *

"I'm telling you, these black headlights are the shit." said Michael.

"Let's try 'em out." said Jackie as he sat in the Impreza and turned on the headlights. It looked like nothing happened.

"You see lights?" asked Jackie.

"Nope." smiled Michael.

"I do." smiled Jackie. The two M.I.T. students shared a laugh.

* * *

Mel took a twelve-pack of Jolt soda and opened it. He then handed the cans to Terry, who loaded them into a cooler in the backseat of the repaired Chevelle.

"We've got enough of this to keep us awake for a year." joked Mel.

"I know." said Terry. "But I'm a little more concerned about the car. Did we do a good repair job?"

Mel patted him on the shoulders and simply said "Don't doubt your skills, man."

"Alright." said Terry as he went back to loading the car with Jolt. "We got a lot of soda. What about food?"

Mel held up a ten-ounce bag of pretzels.

Terry grabbed the pretzels and tossed them into the car. "Very funny." he said. "Now give me the rest of that Jolt."

* * *

"I think we have to work on strategy." said Jill as she applied another decal to the MR2's "role call". The now jet black Toyota sported stickers along the side skirts displaying the names of companies with parts in the car. The car was affixed with a Kaminari body kit and silver Konig Blatant rims.

"What do you mean?" asked Marcie as she tightened the screws on the new steering wheel.

"This is the first race I've run where we'll have to make pit stops." said Jill. "I don't know if we can handle it."

"I've made some adjustments based on the nature of the race." said Marcie. "All we have to do is plot the right route and we're golden."

* * *

  
A few young women gathered around the Porsche as Blake sweet-talked them. Fenderbaum watched the scene taking place and walked over.

The ladies dispersed as Fenderbaum got there. "So, you've got groupies now." he said.

"Some people are impressed with us." said Blake. "It takes guts to run three thousand miles in thirty-six hours."

"Can you explain why they came to you?" asked Fenderbaum.

Blake gave him a look that said "I don't need to explain anything."

* * *

Elsewhere, the Drake was on his cell phone. "Great, I'm certain construction can begin within the month." he said. "I've personally met with several of the people who will be moving into the place when it's finished. Good. I'll be unavailable the next couple of days. I'll see if I can get back to you then."

He hung up his cell phone.

"Congratulations." said Susan. "I think you just set a record for the world's longest cell phone call."

"Hey, I wanted to do that." said Ron.

"I wanted to make sure there were no loose ends." said the Drake.

"Some are preparing by tuning up their cars." said Susan. "Some are stocking up on supplies. Some are plotting their routes. What is our fearless leader doing? Negotiating a business deal."

"Welcome to the Drake Express." said the Drake.

"Please keep your hands inside the car at all times." said Ron.

* * *

J.J. walked over to Victor. "Sorry about last night." he said. "What were you trying to tell me?"

"It's about the doc." said Victor.

"What about the doc?" asked J.J.

"He got sick." said Victor.

"Ah, dammit." said J.J.

"I know." said Victor. "It puts us in a bind."

"A bind?" said J.J. "This is a little more than a bind."

"I thought you wanted to be notified before I went to find a new doctor." said Victor.

"Good idea." said J.J. "Remember, the race starts at midnight."

* * *

That night, the race was ready to start. The Cannonballers gathered around and took in the commencement speech from the race organizer. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you to what's sometimes been refered to as an automotive counterpart to the Bay of Pigs." he said. The crowd laughed.

"I just want to say that you are easily the most distiguished group of highway scofflaws and degenerates ever gathered together in one place." More laughter. "Tonight, we commence the two-thousand and three running of the Cannonball Run, a three-thousand mile race over public interstates and highways. A race designed to show that good, skillful drivers can use the country's interstate system to traverse the country safely and quickly. The rules are simple: cars are to be driven from one side of the country to the other. The car with the shortest elapsed time between those two points is the winner.

"This action is still considered to be highly illegal. As you may be aware, as soon as we begin, thirty-thousand of the nation's most alert highway patrolmen will be out there waiting to stop you guys. But let's stay positive. Think of the fact that not one state of the fifty has the death penalty for speeding...although I'm not so sure about Ohio." The comment made the crowd laugh.

"Now, to keep track of your elapsed time, you will be given a card...like this." said the organizer as he held up a time card. "You punch in when you start here, and you punch out when you reach the Portofino Inn in Redondo Beach. The difference between those two times is your time across America. The record stands at thirty-two hours, fifty-one minutes, and believe it or not, those guys did break the then fifty-five mile-an-hour speed limit." The crowd let out a loud cheer.

"But I'm sure you didn't come here to listen to me talk. You came here to race. So let's get that first car up here and let's get this show on the road!"

The crowd parted as an engine's roar pierced the night. A pair of headlights appeared in the darkness and approached the starting line. Under the lights of the hotel's exit, the engine and headlights were revealed as belonging to Danny's Qvale Mangusta.

Melanie jumped out of the passenger seat and jammed a time card into the clock. "Go!" called the organizer. She jumped back into the Mangusta and the car sped off.

* * *

J.J. ran back to the ambulance. At that time, Victor came running over to him and yelled "J.J! J.J! I got the doc!"

"You got the doc?" asked J.J. "That's great!"

"He's in the ambulance." said Victor. He and J.J. ran over to the ambulance and Victor took the door handle to the sliding door.

"Now before I open this up, don't get your hopes up too high." said Victor.

He then opened the door, revealing a slightly inebriated man in a doctor's jacket.

"Holy shit." muttered J.J.

"I'm honored, sir!" said the doctor who extended his right hand for a handshake. "My name is Doctor..." he introduced before raising his hand up to his mouth to stiffle a cough, then extended his hand again "Nicholas Van Helsing, doctor of proctology and other related tendencies."

"Nice to meet you." said J.J. "So, what are your qualifications?"

"Well, I got my medical training at the University of Tennessee and various corespondence courses." said the doctor.

"Did you bring your equipment?" asked J.J.

"I did indeed bring all the necessary stuff." said the doctor. "Although in my line of work, I rarely need more than this." he added as he took out a hypodermic needle and sprayed J.J. with its contents.

"Or this." he added as he tapped J.J's cheek with his middle finger.

"I think you might be a little overqualified." said J.J.

"Thank you. Now before we go any further, there is the matter of my compensation." said the doctor. "Since this sporting event, which I understand will be taking us from sea to shining sea, will be taking me away from my practice, I will need compensation of about two thousand dollars."

J.J. balked at the ammount. "We were thinking more along the lines of two hundred dollars." he calmly informed.

"Fortunately, my practice allows me a little flexibility." said the doctor. "Okay, I'll get ready to go."

Victor made sure the doctor was safely tucked away before sliding the door shut. "Satisfied?" he asked. A slap on the arm was J.J's response.

* * *

The Drake slid his time card into the time clock until it clicked. "I will see you at the finish, my lovelies!" he told the women at the desk. He then ran back to his BMW and jumped in.

"Next stop, California." said Susan as the Drake slipped the BMW into gear and floored the accelerator. Unfortunately, he had it in reverse and barely missed the car behind him.

"Why did we just go backwards?" asked Ron as the Drake put the Bimmer back into drive and pushed the accelerator.

"Probably because I had it in the wrong gear. Hold on." said the Drake as he cautiously pushed the gas and raced out of the parking lot.

"Was that weird!" remarked the organizer.

* * *

"Any signs of trouble?" asked Blake as he and Fenderbaum looked over their car.

"It's a cinch!" said Fenderbaum as he looked around the parking lot. "The more I look around at these..." He stopped when he saw someone he somehow missed at the party the night before: J.J.

"While you're leering, Blake," he added "isn't that J.J. McClure over there?"

"He's nothing." said Blake. "What you really need to worry about is the blimp." he added as he pointed out Victor. "He has this alternate persona, a daredevil named Captain Chaos. When he puts on that mask and cape, he'll blow your god damned doors right off!"

"We may need to deal with him." said Fenderbaum.

"I'll do it." said Blake as he walked over to the ambulance.

* * *

Chuck Prescott started the race, blissfully unaware that Mr. Foyt and Pamela were sitting in a Honda Civic Hybrid taking down the cars' license plate numbers.

"Okay, hold still for a second." said Mr. Foyt as he aimed a digital camera at the Mustang's license plate. He then took a picture.

"Get it?" asked Pamela.

"Got the evidence." said Foyt. "Now we're well on our way to taking down the Cannonball."

* * *

Mel and Terry were the next team at the start. Mel jumped out of the car as it stopped at the entrance, punched the clock, and jumped back into the passenger seat.

"How long until we stop?" he asked.

"Eight hours!" said Terry.

"Aw, damn!" said Mel. "I gotta go to the john!"

The Chevelle raced down the driveway and out to the interstate.

* * *

Blake snuck over to the ambulance parked next to Jill and Marcie's MR2 and listened in on J.J. and Victor planning their route.

"I think we may have to risk taking Interstate 70 through Ohio." said Victor. "We can save a lot of time, but we'll be at higher risk of speeding tickets."

"Didn't you use Mapquest?" asked J.J.

"I think everyone was using Mapquest." said Victor. "I couldn't get in as it was so busy."

"Understood." said J.J.

"Do you need help, father?" asked Marcie as she saw Blake standing in front of their car.

"Oh no, I was just admiring your car." said Blake. "It's very nice, and cunningly disguised so that it won't look like a racing car. I tell you, I bet the cops won't give that a second glance."

"A hundred and seventy miles per hour and they're not gonna get a second glance." said Jill.

* * *

Team M.I.T. was next out of the gate. They pulled up to the starting line with their black headlights on.

"Hey, could you get that for me?" asked Michael as the official punched the time clock and handed him the card. "Thank you."

"It might be easier with your lights on." said the organizer.

"Why advertise?" asked Michael as the Subaru raced out of the lot.

* * *

"Well, couldn't you just..." asked Blake.

"Haven't you heard?" asked Marcie. "That's a no-no. It's forbidden by several parishes."

"I'm from a small parish out some ways." said Blake. "Very small."

"Goodbye." said Jill as she waved him off.

* * *

Mad Dog and Batman were next to start. Batman jumped out of the truck and punched their time card. He then ran back to the truck and jumped in.

Inside the truck, he turned to Mad Dog and said "Mad Dog, you are going to take the shortcut to the interstate, right?"

"We're in this to win, ain't we?" replied Mad Dog. "If you're gonna be a bear, BE A GRIZZLY!"

He and Batman growled at each other.

He threw the truck into gear and tore down the driveway. But instead of making the turn, he drove up a hill and smashed through a fence. Mr. Foyt and Pamela saw the whole thing.

"Did you see that?" asked a shocked Mr. Foyt.

"That can't be legal." said Pamela. "And what if there was someone on the other..."

"That's it. We are stopping this right here and now." said Foyt. "Buckle up, we are going into action."

* * *

Blake walked back to the Porsche to find Fenderbaum waiting. "They're going to take Interstate 70 through Ohio." he informed. "We'll get them there."

"Good, Blake." said Fenderbaum.

Blake grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air. "Listen!" he demanded. "Next time, we're Methodists! Got that? Methodists!"

"Okay! Okay!" said Fenderbaum as Blake set him down.

"Okay, now get in the car and prepare to go." said Blake. Fenderbaum climbed into the Porsche and crawled into the passenger seat.

"Don't forget your hat." said Blake as he pointed to the black hat on the hood of the Porsche. Fenderbaum grabbed it as Blake climbed into the driver's seat.

* * *

Jill calmly eased the MR2 up to the starting line. The engine's growl was amplified by the new exhaust.

Marcie jumped out of the car, punched their card, got back into the car, and yelled "Hit it!" A chirp of tire squeal and a roar of engine later, they were off.

Blake and Fenderbaum were right behind them. Fenderbaum stepped out of the Porsche and walked over to the time clock.

"Greetings, ladies." he said as he took the time card and stuck it in the clock. "Bless you, ladies. Bless you. I hope the good lord takes a liking to you, but not too soon."

As Fenderbaum strolled back to the Porsche, the organizer laughed "This guy's more juiced up than that Porsche."

Fenderbaum let out a howl and the Porsche left the premises.

J.J. and Victor followed them. Victor steered the ambulance up to the starting line and J.J. got out. He ran over, punched the clock, and ran back to the ambulance.

Once inside, he told Victor "We're off."

* * *

On the interstate, Mad Dog merged with traffic.

"Crazy Connecticut Yankees." said Mad Dog. "They act like they never got cut off before."

"Don't any of them cross the New York state line?" asked Batman.

As they passed the exit they would have taken instead of the shortcut, Foyt pulled out after them.

"There they are." he said.

"What are you going to do?" asked Pamela.

"I'm taking him down." said Foyt.

"In a Civic?" asked Pamela.

Batman looked around the truck and glanced in the rearview mirror. "Uh, Mad Dog." he said. "I think we've got some unwanted attention."

Mad Dog checked the rearview. "Yeah, I think you're right." he said. "Although I can't quite picture the Connecticut State Police using a Civic Hybrid."

"At least they're environmentally concious." said Batman.

Foyt dialled his cell phone.

"Are you sure that's safe to do while you're driving?" asked Pamela.

Foyt put the phone to his ear. "Hello, Connecticut State Police?" he said. "Yes, I'd like to report a reckless driver."

Mad Dog tried weaving through traffic to lose Foyt, but came upon two cars driving alongside each other. "Man, I can't handle this traffic." he said.

He swerved onto the shoulder and passed the two cars. Unfortunately, he didn't see a stalled car until it was almost too late.

"Look out!" yelled Batman.

Mad Dog quickly cut back onto the road and one of the cars, a Volvo, spun out to avoid him.

"He is driving a white GMC pickup." said Foyt on his cell phone. He changed lanes to pass a car and ended up heading straight for the spun out Volvo. Pamela screamed.

Foyt got on the brakes, but it was too late. He plowed into the Volvo's front fender and coasted to a stop. He and Pamela ended up pushing the deflating airbags aside.

Mad Dog and Batman looked in their rearviews. "I hope we don't have to do that again." said Mad Dog.

* * *

The ambulance was on the road.

"Alright!" called J.J. "Now, the start of three thousand madcap miles to California!"

"California, here we come!" sang the doctor. "Right back where we started from!"

"The only problem, Victor, is we do not have a beautiful female patient in the back." said J.J.

"I still can't believe every girl I talked to turned us down." said Victor.

"There was also that girl I was talking to last night." said J.J. "I wish I'd gotten an opportunity to ask her."

"Why do I get the feeling you want her as more than just a patient?" asked Victor.

"What?" asked J.J.

"Hey, I don't blame you." said Victor. "I haven't seen you talk to a girl like that since Gina."

"Shut up!" said J.J.

"I would've waited an extra few months." said Victor. "But that's just me."

"I said 'shut up'!" said J.J.

"You bitter about something?" asked the doctor.

"If it's meant to be, she'll come back." said Victor.

"Well, in the meantime we need a beatiful female patient in the back." said J.J. "And until we get a beautiful female patient..."

J.J. stopped when he saw Foyt's car accident up ahead. "I believe I said something about second opportunities." said Victor.

"Damn Cannonballers!" groused Foyt.

Victor pulled up to the accident. "Oh, thank you." said Pamela. "Could you please help me and mister...uh..."

"Foyt." he reminded.

"Okay, Mr. Foyt." said J.J. "You can just climb into the service entrance in the back."

Mr. Foyt walked towards the back of the ambulance.

"As for you, miss, you can just come right in here this way." said J.J. as he opened the door and pulled Pamela into the ambulance. "Hit it!" he told Victor.

"Hey, wait!" yelled Foyt as the ambulance raced off with him holding on to the rear door handle. He actually became airborne for a few seconds before his hand slipped and he hit the pavement face-first.

In the ambulance, Pamela was briefly unaware of Mr. Foyt's absence. "Thank you for helping me." she said. "That's so nice of you."

"Next year, we're going for the Nobel Prize." said J.J.

Suddenly, Pamela noticed Foyt was missing. "Hey, wait." she said. "I think you forgot Mr...uh..."

"Foyt!" reminded J.J. and Victor.

"Well, we've got you. We're batting five hundred." said J.J. "Nobody's perfect."

* * *

Further down the road in New York, another team was in trouble. It was Blake and Fenderbaum. They climbed out of their Porsche and turned to face the state trooper who had pulled them over.

"Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" asked the trooper.

"I'm terribly sorry for that little lapse, my son." said Blake, fully acting the part of a priest. "Usually, I drive right around the speed limit."

"Losing track of your speed is one thing." said the officer. "But a hundred and forty miles an hour? That's a little more than a lapse."

He was interupted by four more engines roaring by, each paired with a couple of headlights. All of them raced by at high speed.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked the officer. "Everybody's driving like maniacs! Sorry, excuse my language, father."

"What language?" asked Blake, feigning forgiveness.

"Now, you've got Connecticut plates." observed the trooper. "Care to explain what you're doing in New York, father?"

"Oh, it's the monsignor's car." explained Fenderbaum. "He's attending an ecumenical council of prelates in California and we're delivering it to him."

"The monsignor drives a Porsche?" said the trooper rather suspiciously.

"It was left to him by one of the congregation's more affluent members." said Blake. "It was a donation."

"I see." said the trooper. "Okay, I'm going to cite you for ninety instead of one-forty what with all these speed-crazed maniacs on the road."

"Uh, could you write it for eighty?" asked Blake. "The monsignor wouldn't understand."

"Okay." said the trooper. "Just promise me you'll take it easier from now on."

"Yes, officer." said Blake as he received the ticket. After the involved parties returned to their cars, Blake breathed a sigh of relief.

"Almost seemless." said Fenderbaum.

* * *

In the ambulance, J.J. tried to explain the situation to Pamela. "And that's basicly all we want you to do." he told her. "After that, we can go our separate ways."

"I can't believe this is happening." she said. "I'm being kidnapped."

"Well, you can call it kidnapping if you want." said J.J. "The way I see it, we're taking a nice little ride in the country and we're picking up all the tabs."

"And just think." said Victor from the driver's seat. "We have a licensed physician on board in case somebody loses their taint."

Just then, a siren came on as a police car showed up behind them.

"J.J, we got company." said Victor.

"Okay, time to go to work." said J.J. as he tried to get Pamela to lay on the stretcher. "Just lay down."

"No!" yelled Pamela. "Why should I help you? You didn't even help mister...uh..."

"Foyt!" reminded J.J, Victor, and the doctor.

"Look, we need your help." said J.J. "Just this once."

"Give me one reason." said Pamela.

"Okay, if you do this, I'll personally plant a dozen trees next Labor Day." said J.J.

"Arbor Day." corrected Pamela.

"I always get those two mixed up." said J.J.

"Fine." said Pamela. She laid down on the gurney.

Victor finally pulled over. "What's the plan?" he asked.

"We'll try to con those two cops out of giving us a ticket while the doctor makes Beauty look legit." said J.J. "If something goes wrong, we'll need them to really sell it.

"Way ahead of you." said the doctor as he attached an IV to Pamela's arm.

Victor pulled over, then he and J.J. got out of the ambulance and confronted the state troopers behind them.

"Hi, officer!" said J.J. "What seems to be the problem?"

"What's the problem?" asked the officer. "You're doing one-twenty. Your little lights are flashing all over the place."

"We've got a patient in there." said Victor.

"You were still speeding." said the other trooper.

"She's very sick." said J.J. "She's the senator's wife. She has some rare disease."

"Well, there's not a hospital within fifty miles of here." pointed out the first trooper. "Where are you taking her?"

"U.C.L.A. Medical Center." said J.J.

"U.C.L.A?" asked the other trooper.

"L.A." said Victor.

"Well, tell me something." said the first trooper. "If she's that sick, why didn't you fly her?"

J.J. just looked dumbfounded. Victor asked "Why didn't we fly her?"

"We're just the drivers." said J.J. "I think we're going to have to ask the doc."

"That's a good idea." said the other trooper. "Why don't we ask the doc?"

Inside, the doctor was adjusting the monitors to give a convincing readout.

The troopers walked over to the ambulance's sliding door.

The doctor placed an oxygen mask over Pamela's face.

The troopers opened the side door and were met by the doctor's usual half-drunk gaze.

"What?" asked the doctor. "What is the meaning of this crude interuption?"

"Uh, doctor." asked the first trooper. "The patient. Why can't she be flown to California? Why does she have to be driven?"

"Do either of you watch ER?" asked the doctor.

"No." said the troopers simulataneously.

"Why can't she be flown?" asked the doctor. "Cysts. On the walls of her lungs. Very rare. Now, anybody who knows anything about medicine knows that airplanes are only pressurized at ten thousand feet. She wouldn't make it through Denver, it's so high. Therefore, she can't be flown. She must be driven."

"My husband, the senator will overlook this delay if you allow us to leave." said Pamela.

"Um, very well, ma'am." said the other trooper.

"Now, as you can see," said J.J. "we have to get to California to get this nice woman some help for her condition."

"Okay." said the other trooper. "We're gonna let you go, but as long as you're in New Jersey, we taught you guys to play it safe."

"Thank you, officer." said Victor as the troopers returned to their car. Victor and J.J. did the same.

"I'm glad we don't have people like that in New Jersey." said the first trooper.

"I guess you never met my brother-in-law Ralph." said the other.

The police car drove off just after that. J.J. and Victor laughed about their perfect deception, then drove off themselves.

"That was incredible." said Victor.

"When I told that cop we were going to L.A, I thought he was going to have a cardiac arrest." joked J.J.

"Wasn't Beauty terrific?" asked Victor.

"She was amazing!" said the doctor. "She should have her picture on the cover of Entertainment Weekly." He then moaned "Entertainment Weekly." and passed out.

"That was a great performance back there." said J.J. "I mean it. You were a regular Julia Roberts."

"What have I gotten myself into?" groaned Pamela as she took off the oxygen mask.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Deception, Confession, Elimination

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter Four:Deception, Confession, Elimination

The next morning, Mr. Foyt was in a phone booth somewhere in Connecticut.

"It's the Cannonball, it's the damn Cannonball!" he said. "They just blew right by me like they were the god damned Red Brigade. They've kidnapped a woman, Pamela Glover." Just then, a van backed into the phone booth, but he didn't notice. "Yes, Ohio has been notified. Yes. Missouri has been notified as well. Plus, California is also in the know." He then checked his watch. "I'll have to call you back. I've got two minutes to catch my flight."

At that, he hung up and tried to leave the phone booth only to discover the van had him stuck inside. He struggled to open the door, but was unsuccessful. The woman who was driving the van walked by and Foyt tried to get her attention. "Madam! Madam!" he yelled.

"Madam?" she yelled. "I'm no madam! I'm a dignified, respectable woman! I don't even own a house, I live in an apartment! Now, get off my case! I'm late for my plane!"

She stormed off, leaving Foyt in the booth. He watched her leave helplessly, then tried to squeeze through the opening at the bottom.

* * *

J.J. climbed into the back of the ambulance to check on Pamela and the doctor. "How's the patient, doctor?" he asked.

The doctor took Pamela's wrist and listened to the ticking of her watch. "She's alive." he announced. "Guess she survived the procedure."

"Procedure." laughed Pamela. "If you had laid a hand on me..."

"Can I have a word with her alone, please?" asked J.J.

"Go ahead." said the doctor. He got up and climbed into the front seat.

J.J. sat in front of Pamela. "Are you doing okay?" he asked.

"About as well as I can be." said Pamela. "God, this has got to be the strangest situation ever."

"I will admit the circumstances are rather unusual." said J.J.

"So, what are you doing here?" asked Pamela.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." said J.J. "I was desperate. We needed someone to fill in for your role and you kind of happened along."

"So, what are you saying?" asked Pamela. "I was a victim of circumstance?"

"Kind of." said J.J. "Look, I just want to make a request. Just stay with us for the duration of the race and when we're done, you can leave. Free and clear. No questions asked."

"What about next year?" asked Pamela.

"We'll think of something else." said J.J.

* * *

Elsewhere, Jill and Marcie effortlessly cut through early morning traffic in their modded out MR2. Their moves attracted the attention of a motorcycle cop who immediately gave chase.

"Uh oh, trouble." said Jill.

"Want me to prep the nitrous system?" asked Marcie.

"Well, do SOMETHING, high-tech!" demanded Jill.

Marcie turned around and turned a valve on a bottle with the word "Venom" on it. She then turned back and flipped a switch on the control unit. "Go for it." she said.

Jill responded by flooring the accelerator. The MR2 responded by rocketing down the street and leaving the motorcycle cop in the dust.

"Wow!" exclaimed Jill. "That's what I call high-tech!"

* * *

"Good news." said Michael. "I think I've got some of the programming flaws in the navigation system figured out."

"There were problems?" asked Jackie.

"Yeah, we were supposed to be sent down the fastest route." said Michael. "Instead, we took a busier and longer highway."

"You're telling me that we're in this race with a system that you didn't work all of the flaws out of?" asked Jackie.

"That's about the size of it." said Michael.

Jackie reached for the Pop button.

"No!" yelled Michael as he grabbed Jackie's wrist.

Jackie returned his hand to the steering wheel.

"Trust me, you don't want me leaving so shortly after the trip has begun." said Michael.

* * *

Victor swerved in and out of traffic in Ohio. Little did he realize, Blake was hot on his trail. After they reached an open section of road, Blake pulled alongside the ambulance and honked the horn. Victor turned to look.

"Pull over!" yelled Fenderbaum. "We want to give you our blessings!"

"J.J, there's a priest in that car over there." said Victor as J.J. climbed into the front. "He says he wants to bless us."

Blake honked the horn again. "Pull over!" yelled Fenderbaum. Victor took another look and J.J. looked with him. "We want to bless you!" yelled Fenderbaum.

"When's the last time you saw a priest driving a Porsche?" asked J.J. "What were they doing? Taking the bingo money home?"

"They're doing the work of the lord." said Victor. "In a Porsche, they can just do it faster. Oh, look. They're waving at us. They want to bless us."

"Let me get this straight." said J.J. "You want us to pull over and be blessed by a priest in a red Porsche."

"Couldn't hurt." said Victor.

"Oy vey!" laughed J.J.

Victor pulled over and Blake pulled in next to him. Blake got out of the Porsche and J.J. got out of the ambulance.

"Nice car, father." said Victor as Blake walked in front of the vehicles.

"Thank you, asshole." said Blake.

Blake walked over to J.J. as Fenderbaum got out of the Porsche and walked over to the ambulance's rear tire.

"Nice car, father." said J.J.

"Thank you." said Blake. "That's what everybody says. That's what he said."

"So, what's the story?" asked J.J.

"Oh, we just drive around and ask to pull over ambulances." said Blake. "We like to bless the patients inside."

"Oh, alright." said J.J. as he opened the door. Blake's eyes lit up when he saw Pamela.

"Oh, I gotta bless her!" said Blake.

"Actually," said J.J. as he tried to close the door "she's a Zen Buddhist."

"Oh, we specialize in blessing Zen Buddhists." said Blake as he reopened the door. He saw the doctor and his jaw dropped.

"If you want to try blessing him, father, be my guest." said J.J. "We need all the help we can get."

Blake just gave him a quick wave and returned to the Porsche. Fenderbaum was already there. J.J. had closed the door and returned to the ambulance's passenger seat.

"Goodbye!" called Victor.

"Bye!" echoed J.J.

Fenderbaum waved to them and asked "Why don't you take that piece of shit back to the junkyard?" He laughed as Blake raced off.

Victor and J.J. wondered what he meant until they heard the hiss of leaking air. Victor looked over his shoulder.

"Uh, J.J." he said. "We've got a..."

"Flat." said J.J.

"Yeah." said Victor.

"And those two priests?" said J.J. "Weren't fathers. They were..."

"Mothers!" said Victor.

"Victor, can I discus something with you?" asked J.J.

"What?" asked Victor.

"C'mere." said J.J. as here waved his finger.

"Oh, jeeze." said Victor as he leaned in. When he was close enough, J.J. slapped him hard. "Aw! Shit!" he screamed.

* * *

"Well, that's the last of the Jolt." announced Mel as he rummaged through the cooler.

"And we're almost out of gas." said Terry. "We're going to have to get more at the next service area."

"There's one." said Mel. Terry pulled onto the off-ramp and entered the service area. He drove past a biker gang hassling an elderly couple and parked next to the gas pumps. He and Mel were out of the car within a couple of seconds.

"I'll gas 'er up." said Mel. "You get the snacks."

"Gotcha." said Terry as he ran over to the restaurants.

Mel inserted his credit card into the card reader at the pump, but the reader failed to notice it.

Terry stopped when he saw the bikers. "What do you want, hillbilly?" asked one of the bikers. Terry ran back to the Chevelle with the bikers all clucking like chickens.

The card reader failed to notice Mel's credit card again as Terry ran up to him and said "We've got a little problem with some big guys. Want to help?"

"Help?" replied Mel as he scoped out the bikers. "Gee, there's only a dozen of 'em." He then pointed out the problem with the card reader and asked "By the way, could you fix this for me?"

Terry gave the card reader a quick smack. Finally, the reader noticed Mel's credit card. Terry then turned his attention to the bikers.

Terry began by tagging one of the bikers in the back. When the biker turned around, Terry punched him in the nose. As the biker staggered away, his friends joined in and attacked Terry.

One biker ran over and crashed into Terry's extended elbow. Another tried to grab Terry and got thrown over a bench for his effort.

Another pair of bikers tried to tackle Terry and he grabbed one and threw him into the other. They ended up on their backs.

"I'll be with you in a minute!" yelled Mel.

Yet another pulled out a chain and attempted to hit Terry with it, but Terry grabbed it and managed to yank it out of the guy's hand. He then clocked the biker with his elbow and took a defensive stance.

Just then, the daughter of the elderly couple, a dark-haired woman, put her hand on Terry's shoulder. He turned and almost hit her, catching himself just in time. "Oh, sorry." he said. "What are you doing here, in the middle of all this chaos? It's not exactly a safe place to be."

The woman screamed when she saw two of the knocked down bikers getting back up. Terry turned to see what she was screaming about. He threw the chain at them and they tried to block. Terry then knocked them out with a pair of punches. He then turned back to the woman.

"That was wonderful." she cried. "Thank you."

"For you, anytime." said Terry.

"Would you like to meet my parents?" she asked. Terry turned and shook hands with the couple who had been being accosted by the bikers. They gave him their thanks.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked "My name's Sarah. What's yours?"

"My name's Terry..." he started before Mel grabbed him by the collar.

"Hey, we got a race to finish." said Mel. "Let's go!" He then dragged Terry off behind him amidst his protests.

"He can stay for dinner too!" yelled Sarah.

"What do you say, Mel?" asked Terry. "Huh?"

* * *

"And after twelve years of being told what I had to customize, I just said 'Enough!' and broke out on my own." said Mad Dog.

"So you went into business for yourself to be yourself." said Batman. "That's cool."

"I know." said Mad Dog.

"So, what's with all the craziness?" asked Batman. "You know, the asking for hookers, the shortcut to the interstate?"

"Yeah, back when I was working for 'The Man'," said Mad Dog "I found myself going insane doing what I was supposed to do instead of what I wanted to do. So basicly, I go crazy to keep from going crazy."

Batman laughed. "I think I'll go crazy one of these days." he said.

"Alright, but do it your own way." said Mad Dog.

Just then, a call came over the CB. "Yo, little four-wheeler that just flew on by me, I got smokeys all over by back door. Ten-four."

Mad Dog picked up the microphone and said "What the hell kind of jive you talkin', bro?" He then released the button and asked "Doesn't anybody speak English anymore?"

* * *

"They say Missouri...loves company." sang Victor as he drove the ambulance into St. Louis. It was time for another pit stop. He drove the ambulance into a local 7-11 and parked at the pump. He, J.J, Pamela, and the doctor jumped out and went to work.

Victor ran into the store to get some food and pay for the gas.

Pamela went to the ladies' room and the Doctor tried to join her. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"What?" he replied.

"You can't go in there!" she explained. "You're a man!"

J.J. stuck two gas nozzles into the ambulance's fuel door and pushed the button on the intercom.

"Welcome to Seven-Eleven. Can I help you?" responded the attendant.

"Pumps one and two, hit 'em." said J.J.

"What are you, some kinda nut?" asked the attendant. "You've got one unleaded there and one premium."

"She goes both ways." explained J.J. before looking at Victor in the store. "Big orange moonpie with the white hat on, he'll pay for it."

"And basicly, once you've seen one, you've seen 'em all." said the doctor. Without anything more to argue with, Pamela was forced to acquiesce.

While J.J. replaced the nozzles, Pamela and the doctor ran back to the ambulance. Victor followed with a pair of grocery bags.

"Let's go!" called J.J. Victor scrambled into the ambulance and J.J. drove out. Just then, Blake and Fenderbaum pulled in.

J.J. noticed them immediately, then noticed a police car next to the store. He pulled alongside the car and stopped. "Excuse me." he said. The officer walked over to his window. "Do you take your law and order in this town seriously?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" asked the officer. He pointed to a banner that read "Re-elect Mayor Sean O'Hanlon for a safer St. Louis".

"Sorry I asked." said J.J.

* * *

Elsewhere, the Drake continued to drive down the highway. Meat Loaf's "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad" was playing over the satellite radio.

Ron was dialling his cell phone. "I'm going to call up this station." he said. "Any requests, Mr. Drake?"

"Ron, we're in a race." said the Drake. "I think there's an obvious answer to that question."

"Right." said Ron. "Golden Earring, 'Radar Love'."

The Drake came to a stop at the next traffic light. While he was parked, Danny pulled alongside him in his Mangusta and had him roll down his window. The Drake complied.

"How the hell did you get ahead of us?" asked Danny.

"Not sure." said the Drake. "Any number of factors could have taken place. Maybe we took a faster route. Maybe we found a way to minimize our pit stops. Maybe we're just faster."

"Not bloody likely." said Melanie.

"Maybe you'd like to put 'faster' to the test." said Danny. "A thousand bucks. First one to the next light wins it."

"You're on, my Kiwi friend." said the Drake.

Danny adjusted his radio. "Twilight Zone" by Golden Earring started to play.

The light changed just as the Meat Loaf song ended. Coincidentally, the next song was also by Golden Earring. It was Ron's request, "Radar Love".

"Yes!" cheered the Drake. "There's no mistaking those opening notes."

The two cars took off racing. The larger BMW started to fall behind the smaller Mangusta. The Drake upshifted and maneuvered around the next car.

Danny pulled onto the shoulder to pass a slower car. He went to the next gear and angled around a pickup truck.

The Drake made his way into a clear lane and floored the accelerator.

"Sir, I know it's a good driving song." said Ron. "And I know Danny's a fierce competitor. But I think you're going a little too fast."

"It's like the Blue Oyster Cult song goes." said the Drake. "Don't fear the reaper."

"I think this should be more like the Chris DeBurgh song." said Ron. "You know, don't pay the ferryman. That is if the ferryman is Charon, the ferryman on the River Styx who takes souls to the afterlife in..."

"Ron, the man is driving a hundred and forty!" said Susan. "Don't make him think!"

Danny managed to get back into a clear lane and noticed the Drake slightly ahead of him. "Not this time, yuppie." he said.

"Look who's talking." said Melanie.

"I'm a metrosexual, not a yuppie." said Danny.

The Drake kept the accelerator floored and raced through the next light a few feet ahead of Danny. The Drake let out a sigh of relief. The two cars came to the next light and stopped.

Danny handed over a thousand dollars and said "Don't spend it all in one place."

"Believe me, I have plans for this." said the Drake.

* * *

Fenderbaum talked on the phone with Ricky while Blake filled the tank. "I see." he said. "We still have fifty-to-one odds. So how are the other teams doing?"

Just up the road, Team M.I.T. was still having computer problems. "I thought you said you'd have this thing fixed by the time we reached St. Louis!" yelled Jackie.

"I think the problem is that this computer sucks!" yelled Michael.

"So what? You can't fix it?" asked Jackie.

"Shut up and turn left!" yelled Michael.

Jackie made his left at high speed and promptly lost control. After they did two "doughnuts", they made their left.

After watching this display, Fenderbaum asked "By the way, Ricky, what are the odds on Team M.I.T. not finishing?"

* * *

"In the back of this ambulance is a flashing victim." said J.J. to the cop. "Somebody came up to her and flashed. She was so traumatized, she suffered a mental breakdown."

"You don't say." said the officer.

"They're driving around in a red Porsche." continued J.J. "And you know what the worst part is? They're dressed as priests."

"Why?" asked the officer.

"Well, they probably think it's kinkier dressed as priests." said J.J.

"My God, that's sick!" remarked the officer.

"Oh, another thing." said J.J. "I think they may be armed."

"God, I hope so." said the officer. "It would give me an excuse." he added while patting his sidearm.

"One last thing." said J.J. who then pointed at Blake and Fenderbaum leaving the Seven-Eleven. "There they are."

The officer nodded to him, then stepped into the Porsche's path. As the Boxster approached, the officer held up his badge. Blake stopped immediately.

"Flashers?" laughed Victor.

"Bye bye!" said J.J. as he drove off.

"J.J, you son of a..." yelled Fenderbaum.

"Step out of the car! Both of you!" ordered the officer.

Blake and Fenderbaum complied.

"On the ground now!" ordered the officer.

Blake and Fenderbaum quickly laid down on the pavement with their hands over their heads.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Fenderbaum.

"We've got a report of a flashing." said the officer. "Victim is in a coma due to mental stress from someone dressed as priests in a red Porsche. The ambulance driver told me personally."

"J.J." groaned Blake. "Look, officer. This is just a part of a practical joke war. It's been going on for about six months."

"Six months is gonna seem like a summer vacation when the state of Missouri gets through with you." said the officer.

* * *

J.J. and Victor drove along in the ambulance.

"There appears to be a roadblock set up on 44." said Chuck Prescott over the radio. "They've got the highway jammed up looking for Cannonballers."

"Tell them about the alternate routes." said Betty.

"We're checking the road atlas." said Chuck. "There are some ways to bypass the roadblock. I'm not sure how well guarded those are."

"Chuck!" yelled Betty.

"What?" yelled Chuck. "Oh my God. I have to pull over. I'm trailing smoke. Over and out."

"A roadblock." said Victor. "Just when you think we've got a clear shot at L.A."

"We've got more problems." said J.J. "The transmission's slipping too. I don't think it can handle the extra horsepower."

"Hey, if the transmission holds, do you think we can bluff our way past the roadblock?" asked Victor.

"I dunno." replied J.J. "Just give me a minute to gather my thoughts."

J.J. continued to drive, then noticed a dump truck up ahead pulling an empty flatbed trailer.

"I've gathered my thoughts." said J.J. He then picked up the C.B. and said "Hey, lowboy! You see that ambulance in your rear-view mirror?"

* * *

Just down the road, the police had the road sealed off looking for the Cannonballers. Cars were passing through at a snail's pace. Danny and Melanie were next in line with Jackie and Michael shortly behind them. The dump truck with the ambulance on its trailer (the amblance was covered with a tarp) was a few cars behind them with Terry's Chevelle just after that.

"What's going on up there?" asked Jackie.

"Dunno." said Michael. "I'll try to find out." He activated the parabolic mic and aimed it at someone who was looking around at the front of Danny's Mangusta. It was Mr. Foyt.

"Now, let's see." he said. "This car has Florida plates." He then proceeded to check the plate number versus his list. "We've got one." he added. He then walked over to the car's window and asked "And what's your story?"

"We're just out looking for a decent pizza place." said Danny.

"With Florida plates, you came all the way to Missouri for pizza?" asked Foyt.

"How about we just moved?" asked Danny.

"How about the fact that your plate number is on my list of participants in the Cannonball?" asked Foyt. "Let's get these guys out of here. The good guys strike back!" he added as the police pulled the two out of their car.

"They're looking for Cannonballers and checking license plates." announced Michael.

"What can we do?" asked Jackie.

"Already working on it." said Michael as he started working on his computer.

The Subaru sported Massachusetts plates. Then, Michael finished his work and the plates, actually LCD panels, changed to New York plates with a different number. Mr. Foyt barely noticed, but was suspicious. He walked over to the window.

"What's your story?" he asked.

"Oh, we're just on a little road trip out to Vegas." said Michael.

"Oh, thank God." said Foyt. "Normal people."

"What's going on here?" asked Michael.

"Oh, it's nothing." said Foyt. "It's just a stakeout."

"Oh, bon apetit." joked Michael.

"College humor." groaned Foyt.

* * *

Hidden from the eyes of the police, Victor did his best to make repairs on the ambulance's transmission. He accidentally hit the frame with his wrench and made a loud "clank!"

"Quiet, Victor! You'll blow our cover!" whispered J.J. from the passenger compartment.

"J.J, this is not a nine-to-five job." replied Victor. "I wish you were here."

* * *

Outside, Mr. Foyt stopped a heavily tricked out Honda Accord that was leading a parade of similarly tricked out cars. He walked up to the driver's side window and knocked. The driver rolled down his window.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"We're looking for Cannonballers." said Foyt. "May I ask where you're heading?"

"There's a racing exhibition in Kansas City." replied the driver. "We're all going."

"All of you?" asked Foyt as he looked back at the parade.

"Yes." replied the driver.

"I guess we're going to have to let you all through." said Foyt. "Okay, let's move it along." he added as he waved the other cars through.

The parade of tricked out cars drove through the roadblock. Just down the road, a black MR2 pulled out of the parade and pulled alongside the Accord. Marcie rolled down her window and said "Thanks for your help. We owe you one."

"The only thing you owe us is a victory." said the Accord's driver.

"Thanks." said Jill. "And if you're ever in L.A, look us up."

* * *

In the ambulance, Pamela tried to relax. J.J. joined her. "Victor's working on the tranny." he said. "We're making it through the roadblock right now."

"Good, maybe we'll make it to L.A." said Pamela.

"What, you're supporting us now?" asked J.J.

"Hey, the sooner I get to Los Angeles, the sooner I get set free." said Pamela.

"Oh, I see how it is." said J.J. "We take you on the adventure of a lifetime and this is the thanks we get?"

"Well, you grabbed me." said Pamela. "You made me pretend I was sick. You made me forget my favorite blouse back at the hotel."

"I did? I'm sorry." said J.J.

"So, why are you doing all this?" asked Pamela. "The racing, the costumes, everything."

"Just for the hell of it." said J.J.

"But why?" asked Pamela.

J.J's expression turned somber, as if he was remembering something painful. "Mostly because of my dad." he explained. "He used to take part in the Cannonball every year when they originally ran it."

"When was that?" asked Pamela.

"The first race was in 1971 and I believe the last one was in 1984." said J.J. "Anyway, dad taught me everything I know about the internal combustion engine and whatever connects it to the tires. It's because of him that I do what I do."

Pamela thought about this for a few seconds. "What happened to him?" she asked quietly.

J.J. took a second to answer. "He had a heart attack and lapsed into a coma." he said. "He was a tough old bastard. It took him a week to succumb."

"Oh." said Pamela sadly.

"And you know what the worst part is?" asked J.J. "He was making plans for his retirement. He said that one day, he'd pack it all up, move to Florida, go fishing every day, tell my mom lies. He died two days before he was supposed to retire."

Pamela wiped a tear from her eye.

"I thought of all the times he told us his plans." said J.J. "I realized that he never got a chance to do what he really wanted because he waited so long. That's when I said I was gonna go for it. Whatever it was, I was going for it."

* * *

"Okay, move it along, people." said Mr. Foyt. The dump truck drove by.

Foyt didn't notice this, but he did notice that the red Chevelle in front of him had a license plate on his list. He walked over to the driver's side window.

"Hi, officer." chirped Mel. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, you didn't think you were going to get away with this." said Foyt. "We're gonna get the whole lot of you now."

"Not here, you won't!" exclaimed Terry. "The word is out about your little roadblock. They're talking about it all up and down this superslab."

"Get these losers out of here!" said Foyt as the police pulled Mel and Terry out of the Chevelle. Foyt looked up at the taller Terry and said "You think you're so big."

As the police carted Mel and Terry away, Foyt realized that the Chevelle was right in the middle of the road. "Hey, could some of you help me move this?" he asked before reaching into the car. "I'll put it in neutral." He then moved the gear selector.

What Foyt didn't realize was that he had actually put the car in drive. Even at idle, this was enough to get the car moving. The Chevelle started gaining speed as it rolled down the incline.

"Stop that car!" yelled Foyt as the Chevelle rumbled towards the river. The Chevelle drove off the side and plunged in, crashing into a rock at the bottom. The car then exploded in a massive fireball. Foyt and Mel stared in shock while Terry dropped to his knees covering his face with his hands.

* * *

Somewhere down the road, J.J. backed t off the trailer. As he passed the dump truck, he yelled "Thanks a lot! Keep on truckin'!"

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Desert Life

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter Five:Desert Life

Night had fallen shortly after the teams passed the roadblock. Team M.I.T. once again had their black headlights on.

"It's nice to know the black headlights work." said Jackie.

"Yeah, better than the navigation system." said Michael.

"How's it coming, by the way?" asked Jackie.

"I'm about ready to chuck it." said Michael.

Just down the road, two highway patrolmen were waiting in the darkness with a radar gun.

"Remember the good old days when we used to chase speeders?" asked one.

"Yeah, this is really boring." replied the other.

Their radar showed up on Jackie and Michael's display quickly. "Hold up, we got something." said Jackie.

"Well, I'll be damned!" said Michael. "It's a Kojak with a Kodak."

"We're passing 'em now and they don't even know we're here." said Jackie.

"Sayanora!" called Michael.

"Bye bye." quipped Jackie.

The Subaru whizzed past the police car. The only indication the cops had that anything had passed was a reading on the radar gun.

"What the hell was that?" asked one cop.

"I dunno, but it was going a hundred and forty miles-an-hour." replied the other.

* * *

The Drake raced into an Outback Steakhouse's parking lot and squealed to a halt. A waitress ran over to the car with a bag of food and a few drinks.

"Thank you for coming to the Outback Steakhouse." she said. "Although, it was kind of hard to understand what you saying over the phone."

"Yeah, that's because when I called you, I was going a hundred and fifty miles an hour." replied the Drake.

"Plus, he doesn't have Sprint." said Ron.

"That was three No Rules Burgers." said the Drake. "One with American cheese and bacon. One with American cheese and barbecue sauce. The last with Swiss cheese and sauteed mushrooms. With that were three Cokes."

Just then, the Drake was captivated by the waitress' beauty.

"Have you ever considered marrying for money?" he asked.

The waitress was a little shocked.

"Uh, how much do I owe you?" he asked.

"Thirty-five dollars, fifteen cents." she replied.

The Drake took off one of his cuff links, handed it to her, and said "Keep the change."

He then drove off, then backed up. The waitress walked back to the car.

The Drake handed her a hundred dollars and said "Get a physical!" He then drove off again and yelled "I shall return!"

* * *

The ambulance took a separate route and was hit by a rainstorm. Victor was driving with Pamela keeping him company.

"J.J. explained his reasons for being in this race." said Pamela.

"Means a lot to him as you can see." said Victor. "It's already cost him one relationship."

"What do you mean?" asked Pamela.

"Her name's Gina." said Victor "She and J.J. dated for several years. She came with us on the Cannonball last year. She and J.J. had a diagreement and she left somewhere in the Mojave Desert."

"What did they disagree on?" asked Pamela.

"Everything." said Victor. "J.J's motivations, the risk, Captain Chaos."

"Captain Chaos?" asked Pamela.

"He's my alter ego." said Victor. "Brave, strong, drives like a Waltrip. Everything I wish I could be."

"Don't say that." said Pamela. "You're doing great."

"Yeah." said Victor. "But not as great as Captain Chaos would."

"You really have a lot of faith in this Captain Chaos, don't you?" asked Pamela.

"He's everything I want to be." said Victor.

* * *

Somewhere else, Mad Dog was racing along.

"That was a pretty good idea of how to pass the roadblock." said Batman.

"I'd rather not talk about it." said Mad Dog.

"Is that because of..." asked Batman.

"I said I'd rather not talk about it!" said Mad Dog.

It was at that moment a group of teenagers in a Lumina pulled up behind them with their brights on.

"Yeesh, dim your lights, pal." said Batman.

"Let's see if they're paying attention." said Mad Dog. He promptly turned off his lights, then hit the brakes.

The Lumina swerved around them. As they were passing, one of them threw a beer bottle at them.

"Now, you've crossed the line." said Mad Dog. He turned the lights back on and got on the Lumina's tail.

Mad Dog put the pedal to the floor. The Lumina picked up some speed to escape from the pickup.

"Yeah, stay on his tail." said Batman.

The Lumina raced around another turn, then started trailing smoke. It pulled off to the side with Mad Dog pulling in right behind it.

The Lumina's driver got out looking stunned. He stared at the smoke and steam coming from under the hood of his car with his mouth wide open.

Mad Dog took out one of his business cards, stuck it in the kid's mouth, and said "If you ever want to try that again, here's my address. Next time, I'll pinch your head off and shit in the hole."

He marched back to the truck to find Batman had taken the driver's seat. "I like your style of diplomacy." said Batman.

* * *

The next morning, Terry and Mel were seated in an interrogation room somewhere. Mr. Foyt walked in.

"Good morning." he said. "I trust you slept nicely."

"Don't 'good morning' me." said Terry. "You blew up my Chevelle. Do you have any idea how much work I put into that thing?"

"Do you also have any idea how much trouble you're in?" asked Foyt.

"I've got a general idea." said Mel.

"Now, there's an easy way out of this." said Foyt.

"Edelbrock manifold, cams, connecting rods." said Terry. "That stuff doesn't come cheap."

"You can tell us who your competitors are." said Foyt.

"Can I go back to the cell with the Kiwis?" asked Mel. "'Cause there's no way in Hell I'm giving up my friends."

"May I remind you that they're winning and you're not?" asked Foyt.

"And whose fault is that?" asked Terry.

"Mr. Fletcher and Mr. Sharp." said Foyt. "I am giving you a way to avoid jail time in this case."

"Not interested." said both of them.

"Fine." said Foyt. "Take them back to their cells."

"Uh, Mr. Foyt?" said the officer. "You're not our commanding officer."

"What was that?" asked Foyt.

"You're just the consultant." said the officer.

"Take them back to their cells." ordered Foyt.

"Fine." said the officer.

* * *

Team M.I.T. had reached the desert states.

"Great news." said Michael.

"What?" asked Jackie.

"I've finally got the navigation system fixed." said Michael.

"Really?" asked Jackie.

"Really." said Michael. "And it says that we have reached Santa Fe, New Mexico."

Jackie smiled at the good news. Then both frowned as they passed a sign reading "Welcome to El Paso, Texas".

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" yelled Michael as Jackie performed a spinout.

* * *

Mad Dog decided to sleep late and let Batman drive. Batman had other ideas.

He popped open a dashboard mounted DVD player and inserted an adult movie.

The movie's announcer explained what was going on. "This is the tale of a woman who has been abducted."

Batman listened intently.

"Tomorrow, she will be set free unaware that she has been loved as never before."

Knowing a sex scene was coming up, Batman turned and watched the screen.

A truck's air horn brought him back to reality. He swerved to avoid the collision and wound up driving off road. He pulled back onto the road and narrowly avoided hitting another car.

The whole debacle woke up Mad Dog. He grabbed the DVD case and yelled "What the hell are you doing?" while hitting him with the case. "Don't you know how many people get themselves killed doing that? What? Are you trying to get us both killed?"

* * *

Jill and Marcie raced down the highway with an Arizona DPS trooper on their tail.

"Oh shoot." said Jill.

"Do that nitrous thing again?" asked Marcie.

"Why not?" said Jill.

Marcie opened the valve on the nitrous tank and flipped the switch on the control unit. "We have nitrous." she announced.

"Ignition." said Jill.

She floored the accelerator and got her needed speed boost. Unfortunately, she hit a turn and started to lose control.

"Turn it off!" yelled Jill.

"What?" yelled Marcie.

"Turn it off!" repeated Jill.

Jill came out of the turn and tried to regain control, but failed. The Toyota spun out. The police car coasted to a stop and the door opened.

Jill rolled down her window. "Don't worry." she told Marcie. "I've got a Plan B."

The state trooper walked over to the spun MR2 ready to ticket the driver. Jill unbuttoned her blouse and teased her hair a little. She then turned to the officer...and discovered the officer was female.

"Well hello, hot pants." said the trooper. "You wouldn't happen to have a driver's license tucked down in there somewhere."

"Yes, ma'am." said Jill as she took her license out of her purse. Marcie just buried her face in her hand.

* * *

The Drake also ran into trouble with the police. A pair of California Highway Patrol officers had pulled him over outside of Needles.

"Never seen a damn BMW go a hundred and fifty before." said one officer as the Drake signed the ticket. "What do you have in there?"

"Stock." said Ron before giving the "sort of" gesture.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard about my mother's intent to become a major land owner in Southern California." said the Drake as he signed the ticket. "I'm sure she'll keep you all on as members of the Highway Patrol regardless of how shabbily you treated her son."

"Tell it to the judge." said another officer.

"Very well." said the Drake as he motioned Susan and Ron to return to the BMW.

The Drake and his entourage got back into the car and the CHP officers returned to theirs. Suddenly, the Drake restarted his BMW and raced off.

"This is for you and the judge!" he yelled as he threw the ticket out the window.

"That god damn yuppie!" yelled one of the officers as he returned to his car. Within seconds, they were in pursuit of the Drake again.

* * *

Another CHP officer was in pursuit of the GMC while Batman was driving.

"First time in a high speed chase?" asked Mad Dog.

"You bet." said Batman.

"You handle it well." said Mad Dog. "Try this side road."

Batman turned down the side road, but the officer followed.

"Shit." said Mad Dog. "Still on our tail."

"Doesn't get much worse than this." said Batman.

Just then, he saw a railroad crossing with a passing train up ahead. A loading ramp for cattle sat in front of him.

"I think I have an idea of what to do." said Batman.

"I think I see what it is." said Mad Dog. He grabbed the door's pull handle and the center console to brace.

Batman aimed for the ramp and watched the train. A flatbed car was coming. Batman timed the jump precisely and cleared the flatbed car. The truck came to a landing on the other side.

Batman looked back at the train and let out a yelp of excitement.

"Evel Kneivel." said Mad Dog. "You've got yourself some competition!" Then he and Batman shared a laugh.

* * *

Team M.I.T. was being chased as well.

"Come on, I gotta ditch this smokey." groaned Jackie.

"This is weird." said Michael. "I think I'm still having problems with the navigation system."

"Why's that?" asked Jackie.

"Well, it says there's cross traffic up ahead, but there's no side roads." explained Michael.

Just then, they came upon the cross traffic which turned out to be a group of dune buggies racing through the desert. Seeing an opportunity to escape, Jackie turned to follow them. The officer couldn't follow.

"Subaru four-wheel-drive." remarked Jackie as the Impreza raced up the hill.

He then crested it and bounced down the other side. The Subaru and the buggies tried to climb another hill, but it was too steep. The buggy drivers let their vehicles roll back down the hill, but the Subaru wouldn't.

"Great, now we're stuck." said Michael.

"We were going great guns, though." said Jackie.

"Wait." said Michael. "Remember our secret weapon?"

"Are you refering to the JATO bottles?" asked Jackie.

"They don't need traction." said Michael.

"I'd like to say no," said Jackie as he activated the JATO bottles "but it's our only option."

The trunk popped open and revealed the JATO bottles.

Michael flipped a few switches and said "Passengers, prepare for takeoff."

The JATO bottles began to hiss in preparation for ignition.

"Ready?" asked Jackie as the JATO bottles roared to life. "Hit it."

Michael hit the ignition button and sent the Subaru right up the hill. The excess thrust even sent the car airborne a little.

"Hey, try to avoid the side of a cliff or we'll become an urban legend." joked Michael.

* * *

Blake and Fenderbaum raced through California.

"I think we're making up lost time nicely." said Fenderbaum.

"Yeah, but we have a lot of lost time." said Blake. "If I get my hands on McClure, I'm gonna..."

A voice came over their radio. "This is a message going out to all Cannonballers. The police are all over on high alert. Report to the emergency meeting place immediately."

"Now what?" asked Fenderbaum.

"I guess we'll find out." said Blake.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. The Final Stretch

Cannonball Run 2003

Chapter Six:The Final Stretch

The Drake pulled into a gas station outside of Los Angeles. Several of the other Cannonballers were there as well. He, Ron, and Susan climbed out of the BMW.

"What's this about increased police presence?" he asked.

"They're all over the place." said Marcie. "Someone must have tipped them off."

"You don't suppose they noticed all these high performance cars racing around at breakneck speed, do you?" asked Ron.

"Ron, shut up." said Jill.

* * *

"So, Victor." said Pamela. "I know how I fit into this as well as J.J. and yourself. But how do you know the doctor?"

"We actually brought him in mere hours before the race started." said Victor. "We needed a doctor for the ambulance, so I found him and explained the situation and luckily, he joined us."

"Where did you find him?" asked Pamela.

"I'm not sure what kind of facility it was." said Victor. "I'm just surprised that all the animals there weren't..."

"Actually, that's...more than I want to know." said Pamela.

* * *

"We saw the dune buggies..." said Michael as he shoveled sand out of the Subaru.

"Sand rails." said Jackie.

"Whatever." said Michael. "We then followed them and they led us away from the cop."

"We had to jump a train to lose ours." said Batman. "You really had to be there. We went right over that thing."

"What, you wanna do it again?" asked Mad Dog.

* * *

Not far away, Blake was sitting on the hood of the Porsche.

"Well, well, well." said J.J. as he and Victor walked over. "Father Putz."

"Well, look who's here." said Fenderbaum.

Blake added "Oh, I'd like to thank you and the Goodyear Blimp here for telling the entire state of Missouri that we were flashers and sex offenders and perverts. Thank you so very much."

"The Goodyear Blimp?" asked Victor.

"Well, that was just a little payback for what you two did to us in Ohio." said J.J. who then added threateningly "And if you call my friend here 'The Goodyear Blimp' again, I'm gonna take those rosary beads and stuff 'em up your nose!"

"These beads?" asked Blake as he pointed to his rosary beads.

"Yeah!" said J.J.

"Up this nose?" asked Blake as he pointed to his nose.

"That's right!" said J.J.

"Want some advice?" asked Blake. "Bring friends!"

"A lot of 'em." added Fenderbaum.

"Okay." said J.J. He then clocked Blake with a right cross to the jaw. "I see you've met."

Blake got back up, tackled J.J, and sent him sprawling into the back of the ambulance. J.J. pushed him off and hit him with a left cross.

The other Cannonballers gathered around and started cheering them both on.

Blake tackled J.J. to the ground and started punching him in the stomach. J.J. pushed him off with his foot and got back on his feet.

Blake got back up and tackled J.J. again. This time, they wound up on the hood of the Porsche. J.J. pushed Blake off him again and got back up.

Blake came at J.J. again, but J.J. grabbed him and threw him off to the side. J.J. punched Blake in the jaw with his right fist. Then, he repeated this action. Then, he punched Blake in the jaw again.

"Hold it." said Blake as he tapped the right side of his jaw. "Try this side."

"Okay." said J.J. He then picked up a wrench and hit Blake with it on the right side of his jaw. Blake went down.

J.J. turned to face the cheering Cannonballers and held his fists up in triumph. Blake got back up and walked over to Fenderbaum.

"Nice work." said Fenderbaum.

"He's tougher than he looks." said Blake.

The Drake was on his cell phone. "Okay, I'll tell them." he said. He closed his phone, then turned to the Cannonballers. "Here's the situation. When this race started, there were twenty-five cars taking part. That number has been reduced by about seven as a result of the roadblock in Missouri and another seven have been detained as a result of increased police patrols. One of the racers caught at the roadblock, Danny Mitchell, has brought in his lawyer to defuse the situation."

"I bet Danny's glad speeding isn't a deportable offense." said J.J.

"The other racers who were detained have been tried and released." said the Drake. "However, they are so far behind, they're out of contention. The race officials are currently deliberating our next course of action."

"Is this race going to the finish?" asked Mad Dog.

"Too soon to tell." said the Drake. "If it does go, I can tell you one thing. The winner will be one of the cars at this gas station."

Jackie looked around. In addition to his Subaru, J.J's ambulance, Blake's Porsche, Jill's MR2, the Drake's BMW, and Mad Dog's Sierra, there were four other cars: a Nissan 300ZX, a Trans-Am, a Chrysler 300M, and an Audi S4.

Jill looked over the cars and mentally debated the advantages and disadvantages of the cars.

Pamela turned to J.J. and Victor and said "I just want you to know that I think you guys have really put your all into this race. If you win, then I would be honored to have been a part of that. I think you can do it."

"Thank you." said J.J.

Just then, the Drake's phone rang. He checked the screen and set it on speakerphone.

The race organizer was on the other end. "Cannonballers, give me your attention. It has come to my attention that you ten teams are the only ones who have a chance of winning this race. This is what I'm telling you to do. This will be a sprint finish. First one to stick their time card in the clock will be declared the winner. It all depends on how fast you can get into your cars and to the finish. The time to leave is...NOW!"

The Cannonballers ran to their cars. The Drake closed his cell phone again.

"My hand's too messed up." said J.J. "You're gonna have to drive."

"I'm on it." said Victor as he climbed into the ambulance.

Blake ran back to his Porsche and jumped in. Jill and Marcie jumped into their MR2 and strapped in. Mad Dog jumped into the driver's seat of the pickup with Batman getting into the passenger side.

Jackie and Michael jumped back into the Subaru. "Please start." Jackie told the car as he turned the ignition. The car obliged.

Within seconds, the cars were off and out of the gas station. Blake and Fenderbaum managed to get out of the gas station first and took an early lead.

* * *

The teams raced down the California highway making a beeline for the Portofino Inn. The ambulance was running in second place behind the Porsche until the other cars blew past it.

"Come on, Victor!" squealed Pamela.

"Can you get this thing going any faster?" asked the doc.

The cars raced over an undulating stretch of road. The Porsche was in front, followed by the Subaru. Behind that was the MR2 which quickly passed the Subaru. Mad Dog's GMC was next with the Drake's BMW right behind him. The 300ZX and ambulance were next with the Chrysler, Audi, and Trans-Am bringing up the rear.

"I think this is about as good as it gets." said Victor.

"For you...or Captain Chaos?" asked J.J.

"I thought you didn't like him." said Victor.

"Like him or not, we need him." said J.J. "We need...HIM."

Victor smiled and said "J.J, hand me the mask and cape."

J.J. handed him an orange mask which read "Chaos" in yellow letters above the eye holes. It had a matching cape.

Victor took the mask in his hands and said "It's go time." He then wrapped it around his face and donned his cape. He then slammed on the accelerator and yelled "Da da DAAAA!" The burst of speed sent J.J. tumbling into the back.

The ambulance started to surge down the highway as it entered the Los Angeles area. The 300ZX was the first to be passed. The Drake's BMW was next, followed by Mad Dog's Sierra. After that was Team M.I.T's Subaru, then Jill and Marcie's MR2. Finally, the ambulance blew past Blake's Porsche.

J.J. climbed back to the front of the ambulance as it reached surface streets. "It's only ten blocks to the finish!" announced Captain Chaos. "I have a feeling we will be...triumphant!"

Just after that, the ambulance raced through a downtown intersection. The Porsche followed it with the Toyota close behind. The Sierra, Impreza, BMW, and 300ZX brought up the rear.

* * *

"You know, some nitrous would really help now." said Jill.

"Gotcha." said Marcie. She turned around and turned the valve on the nitrous bottle. She then glanced at the pressure gauge and her face dropped. "Uh oh." she said.

"What?" asked Jill.

"We're out of nitrous." said Marcie as she got back into the seat.

"Shit!" yelled Jill.

"Relax, we still have one advantage." said Marcie.

"What's that?" asked Jill.

"This is our town!" announced Marcie.

"You got it." said Jill as she went to the next gear.

* * *

The Cannonballers entered a traffic circle and exited on the road leading to the Portofino Inn. The cars slowed down to make the turn. The Porsche and Toyota entered the circle at the same time, but Jill managed to recover more quickly and pass Blake.

Fenderbaum grabbed the windshield and pulled himself into a standing position. He looked at the street racer passing them and dropped back into the seat.

"What was that?" asked Blake.

"A Toyota." said Fenderbaum.

"Is it in the race?" asked Blake.

"Just catch it!" yelled Fenderbaum.

* * *

Finally, the Cannonballers reached the Portofino Inn. However, the guard didn't raise the gates for them. Mad Dog charged through one while Blake took out the other. The racing vehicles turned into the parking lot with the finish line in it and continued their charge.

Suddenly, another car pulled into their path and the drivers were forced to stop. The Cannonballers jumped out of their cars. "It's a foot race!" yelled Blake.

The Cannonballers ran down the parking lot. Captain Chaos and J.J. were in the lead with the rest quickly gaining. J.J. ran up to Chaos and handed him the time card. "Take this and win!" he said, then tackled Blake.

Marcie jumped over the fallen racers and chased after Chaos with her team's time card. Jackie wasn't as lucky and tripped over the pair. When he fell, he fell into Mad Dog and knocked him down. The Drake tried to step around them and tripped over Blake's arm. No one else made an attempt since they were so far behind.

Marcie continued to chase Chaos, but fell further behind with every step.

The Cannonballers who had fallen picked themselves up off the ground. The doctor ran over and yelled "Anybody need medical attention?"

"Well, that's not a very sporting way to win." said the Drake.

"Not a very sporting...that's a shitty way to win." added Blake.

"Keep going!" J.J. yelled to Chaos.

"We're gonna win!" shrieked Pamela.

Just then, a woman screamed. "Help! Somebody save my baby! He's drowning!"

Chaos stopped when he heard the cry for help. He quickly looked between the clock and the woman. J.J. just stared in shock.

Finally, Chaos made his choice. He dropped the time card and ran towards the woman. "I will save your baby!" he announced. "Have no fear!" He jumped over the hedge and hit the water.

Marcie, on the other hand, just ran over to the clock, jammed the card into it, and claimed victory. J.J. groaned while Blake and Fenderbaum laughed.

Chaos walked up a ramp leading to a boat landing with the woman's baby, a dog. She repeatedly thanked him as he handed it to her.

Chaos then turned to see a clearly angry J.J. approaching him. "Oh shit." he muttered.

"Victor, we could've won that race." J.J. stated. "Can you give me a reason why you decided to save that woman's dog instead of giving us a victory?"

"Well, the dog is obviously important to her." explained Victor. "And I'm sure I'll sleep better tonight knowing I helped a total stranger in a time of need instead of selfishly pursuing my own goal. And that is the definition of hero."

"Good enough." laughed J.J. as he took Victor in a big hug. The other Cannonballers laughed and cheered them.

Jill walked over and said "We won?"

"Bingo." said Marcie.

"Street chicks for life." said Jill as she and Marcie high-fived each other.

* * *

A post-race party immediately followed. Jill and Marcie's friends Steve and Pete showed up and posed for photos with them. Everybody else enjoyed a glass of champagne and a few laughs about the previous two days' events.

Fenderbaum got back on the phone with Ricky. "What?" he yelled. "Ricky, how could you drop us in the middle of the race?"

An hour into the party, a pair of taxis pulled into the lot. Mel and Terry jumped out of the back of one, while a very angry Mr. Foyt climbed out of the front seat. Danny, Melanie, and the Prescotts got out of the other.

"So who won the race?" asked Terry.

"What do you get for last?" joked Chuck.

"Well, congratulations on confirming what every insurance company and legislator has already suspected-" growled Foyt. "that every automobile enthusiast is an overgrown adolescent who views every strip of asphalt as a personal race track. How do you feel now that you have raped America's highways?"

"Beautiful." said Blake.

Jackie quickly whispered something into Michael's ear. "Uh, sir." said Michael. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to invite you in for a soda. In fact, you can use the dispenser in our car, Mr...uh..."

"Foyt!" everybody called.

"Foyt." said Michael. "It's the black Subaru. Push the 'Pop' button."

With that, Mr. Foyt walked over to the Subaru and let himself inside.

"Watch what happens when he pushes that button." laughed Jackie.

Mr. Foyt sat in the Subaru's driver's seat and pushed the "Pop" button. A can of root beer popped out of the cup holder.

The Cannonballers looked over at the Subaru and their looks turned to confusion when they saw Foyt sitting in the car chugging the soda.

"Ain't nothing happening." said Fenderbaum.

"That's odd." said Jackie as he walked over to the car. He let himself into the Subaru, sat in the passenger seat, and asked "Excuse me, where did you get that soda?"

"The 'Pop' button of course." said Foyt.

"That's weird." said Jackie as he pushed the "Pop" button. Another soda came out of the modified cup holder. Foyt just looked confused.

"Jackie!" yelled Michael. "I just remembered! It's not 'Pop', it's the 'Eject' button on the CD player!"

"You mean this?" asked Foyt as he tapped the "Eject" button. This time, the roof blew open and Jackie was shot into the air. The other Cannonballers watched in surprise as Jackie flew away from the car and landed in the bay.

He swam to the surface and attracted a good laugh from everybody.

* * *

After that, the post-race party continued.

Terry stood off to the side while looking over the ocean. Mel walked over to him.

"I was just talking with Danny." said Mel. "His lawyer managed to get our cars back."

"That's great!" said Terry enthusiasticly.

"Great?" asked Mel. "The car was blown to pieces."

"This gives me an opportunity to fix it up." said Terry. "I think some repair work, a new engine, replace the interior and front clip, no one will be able to tell it was wrecked."

"How long do you think that will take?" asked Mel.

"I dunno." said Terry. "Three years, maybe."

"So, what happened to you guys?" asked Danny.

"Oil pump." said Betty. "Blew right up."

"Yeah, we're going to have to get it fixed if we're going to race again." said Chuck.

"Maybe J.J. and Victor can help you there." said Melanie.

"Where are J.J. and Victor?" asked Batman.

* * *

In the parking lot, J.J. was helping Pamela get into a cab. "Once you get to the airport, you can go back to Connecticut or wherever." said J.J.

"I can't believe you're actually letting me leave." she said.

"I promised." said J.J.

"It was fun running with you." said Pamela.

"Have fun." said J.J. He then closed the door. He turned around and walked to Victor as the taxi drove away.

"Have fun?" asked Victor. "That was it?"

"I didn't really see any reason to keep her longer than we should." said J.J. "I mean, face it. What we did to her was kidnap her. I promised her I would let her leave when the race was over."

"Well, where is she going?" asked Victor.

"Anywhere she wants." said J.J.

They heard a car pull up and a door slam. "J.J?"

J.J. and Victor turned around. They saw Pamela standing next to the taxi just before it pulled away.

"I thought you were going to the airport." said J.J.

"Oh, come on." she said. "You don't share the adventure of a lifetime with someone and just leave it at that."

"I told you that you could go back to your life." said J.J.

"J.J, the woman is throwing herself at you." said Victor. "Maybe she can replace Gina. Maybe she's the one. Maybe you can finish your conversation from the other night."

"What do you say?" asked Pamela.

"I'll think about it during the party." said J.J. "Like to come?"

"Anytime." said Pamela.

The three of them ran over to the party.

"Hey, is there anything left?" asked Victor.

"To the Cannonball!" yelled the Drake.

"Yeah!" cheered the group.

"Maybe next year, we'll do this again." said Mad Dog.

THE END

AN:I hope you enjoyed this rewrite. You might have noticed I did some foreshadowing for stories that came later as well as work in some characters from said stories. In case you're wondering, I am not planning on rewriting Cannonball Run 2004. If I rewrote all of my stories, I wouldn't have time to write new ones. But they're all my babies. I did the best I could with them.

Thank you for reading and Happy New Year.


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